Answers and Questions
by poe1911
Summary: It never rains, but it pours. Gary has finally decided to let Toni Brigatti into his secret life. This means, of course, that his past will come back. Now Complete.
1. Introductions and Explanations

A/N – I'm a bit nervous with this fic because it is my first one outside the Buffyverse. I always thought that Early Edition had a lot more potential than the writers gave it credit for. There were never any extended story arcs, and they seemed to limit the truly interesting characters (Crumb and Brigatti spring to mind). Ah well, I do wish I owned em, but such is life. The characters belong to Tri-Star and a bunch of idiotic suits that can't even figure out that they should put the series out on DVD. They own em, but they don't deserve em. Before we get started, I want to thank Banadar and Mooselodge for their criticism and superior Beta reading. Needless to say, all screw ups are their fault and all the brilliance is mine. LOL This is your basic Gary/Toni romance, with some action thrown in to spice things up. The prologue and the first paragraph of chapters 2 thru the end are from the point of view of detective Armstrong. He's not really a villain here so much as he's just a putz. I always wondered how far he would go to find out Gary's secret. Let's find out together.

Poe1911

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS

PROLOGUE

I've got a study at home; we call it 'the nursery' but until we have another kid, it's my study. Sure, Meredith has a corner of it staked out for her sewing; but by and large, it's my study. The stuff in there has grown over the past few years. Filled with the things that I bring home from work. Yeah, I hear ya, you need to leave work at work, and take time to have a life. But there's not a cop in the world that doesn't have a case or two that they just hang on to. Whatever the reason, an unsolved crime, you think the wrong guy got sent up, you think there was someone else involved; it doesn't matter, there are crimes that stay with you. Now any shrink worth his salt will tell you that hanging on to stuff like this is asking for a quick trip off the deep end, and they'd be right; but cops just can't let go. Yeah, I've got a few cases as well, crimes that got a hook in my mind and won't let go, but for me, that stuff is window dressing. It's justification for the real purpose of this room. It masks what's in the boxes and on the computer. If the real purpose of this room ever got around to my fellow officers, I'd be on psych leave before the ink was dry on the paperwork. I keep it quiet because I believe I've stumbled onto or into something that is so huge; I can't be sure of anyone, even my wife. I believe I've found someone who is so dirty; that nearly every crime in this town is tied to him in one way or another. Now, the idea of a master criminal is no great stretch. We've got the history of Capone, not to mention the Mafia families and drug rings; but this guy is so removed, so nebulously tied to crimes that most people would laugh in my face if I told them what I really thought. The problem is that he always comes up; dig into a situation, and sooner or later, there he is, all the damn time. The reason I'd be laughed off the force though, is because the public face of this guy is pure Boy Scout and Wonder bread. Even for me, it's tough to picture him swearing, yelling, attacking anyone or anything. But, he keeps popping up, all the time. Every mention of him in a newspaper story or a police report is in this room. Every statement of every witness that has uttered his name is in this room. Of course I'm obsessed; I realize this. And yeah, I know obsession leads to madness; you'd probably be right in saying I've flirted with that line. But I know the answer is somewhere in this room. That there is some scrap, some consistency, some clue that opens the lock. And I'll find it; come hell or high water, I'll find it; and when I do, then we'll see what Hobson has to say for himself.

CHAPTER – 1

Meow . . . . . THUMP

'Good morning Chi. . .' was all that got out before the alarm was cut off. 'The same thing, every day' Gary thought to himself; he opened the door to his loft and looked down at Cat "you know a little variety would be nice for a change, think you could show up at nine one morning, just to see if you like it."

Cat just gave him a bit of a glare and then darted into the loft, looking around for his breakfast. Gary just sighed and picked up the paper, wondering what the day would bring. He was glancing through the paper, picking out the things that would need his help, but mostly he was thinking about the night before. He had gone to dinner and a concert with Brigatti. He couldn't help but smile as he thought of the fiery detective, despite the fact that every mistake he made with her was punctuated with some sort of bruise, either to his body or his ego.

Well, that's what makes life exciting. He realized that on occasion the paper gave him more excitement than he really needed, but in the six years he had been receiving his 'early edition' he had found a rhythm to his saves. He was finally feeling comfortable with the paper part of his life, now he needed to work on the life part of his life. The dates that he had with Brigatti were part of that. A part of him had realized a while back that if their relationship was to go anywhere he would have to come clean with her; to let her into the group of people that knew about the paper. That scared him. After all, the only two women (other than his mom and Marissa) who knew about the paper had run faster than greased lightning. So he had been looking for the right story at the right time to convince her in one swoop that he wasn't insane and that he was really doing what he said he was doing. It was not an easy story to find, and the paper almost seemed to be taking some perverse pleasure in stretching out the time he had between deciding to tell her and actually telling her. He was beginning to think that his opportunity would never come, when there it was. A hit and run; injured but not seriously, after her shift and close to the precinct. He picked up the phone.

'Chicago PD, how can I help?'

'Detective Brigatti, please'

Winslow recognized the voice, but decided to have some fun. 'Who may I say is calling?'

'Gary Hobson'

'Is she expecting your call?'

'No Logan, now put me through or I'll tell everyone at the precinct how you shot that raccoon during a stakeout.'

Realizing that he had been trumped, Winslow put the call through.

"Brigatti"

"Toni, its Gary"

"What can I do for you Hobson?"

"A favor, kind of a big one; you have a light day today?"

"Yeah, pretty light; what do you need?"

"I need you to pick up a copy of the _Sun-Times_ and meet me at the corner of Van Buren and Jefferson at 4:45 this afternoon."

"What the hell for?"

"I'll answer everything when you get there, I promise."

Brigatti knew that Hobson was a bit of a flake, but he was as honest as anyone she had ever met, and she had never known him to break a promise. "OK Hobson, I'll be there; but if you're wastin' my time, I'll bust your chops."

"I know, see ya there Toni."

Gary hung up the phone with a smile; for better or worse, he was gonna tell Brigatti the truth, and she deserved to know. But before that, he had to prevent a kid from being attacked by a guard dog that had gotten loose. Picking up a package of hot dogs he headed out.

In the six years since she had left Chicago, Meredith Carson had made quite a name for herself. In the DC area, she was simply known as 'The Source'. She already had one 'Pulitzer' that was all her own, and had helped two different colleagues win one as well. She could supply information on just about anything happening inside the Beltway. She did it by ignoring the important people in the town, and getting to know the folks who just lived and worked here all the time. She knew when Afghanistan was going down from talking to the pizza guys that delivered to the Pentagon. It was a rule that was as old as bureaucracy, 'the secretaries know everything'; and she knew the secretaries, and the janitors, and the librarians and the pizza guys. She had a computer, but it was filled with crap. She didn't trust some of her co-workers, and certainly didn't trust some of the people she wrote about. So the computer was a _trompe l'oeil_. All her sources, and resources were in a series of notebooks that were scattered here and there, but in a code that she had learned from studying the Revolutionary War; simple but effective. Like Hawkes had said, she was definitely old school.

Right now she was worried. A small but effective part of her network had just fallen off the edge of the world, and she didn't know why. People came and went, she knew that, but to have this many people she knew just stop communicating with her maxxed out her 'Weird-Shitometer'. She was shutting everything down for lunch when her phone rang.

'Meredith Carson'

'Meredith, you're in trouble'

'Who is this?' She wasn't really worried; if you didn't get the occasional threat then you were a second tier reporter.

'It's Gary, Gary Hobson'

That name changed everything. She had spent her time in Washington trying to forget that name and everything that went with it. She had cared for him, and if she was having a moment of honesty, she had been in love with him. But then she betrayed him on such a fundamental level, that she had left rather than have to deal with the wounded look in his beautiful green eyes. If she was having a huge moment of self – honesty; she knew that she was still in love with him; but could never be with him. The temptation to use his secret would dig into her mind, and never let go. She could never stand to betray him again, so she could never see him again. Simple, right.

'Gary, it's been a long time, you OK.'

'Yeah, I'm fine, but if you go home you're gonna get shot.'

'Why'

'How the heck should I know; I imagine because you're just as charming as ever.'

'Well, you know me. Do I even have to ask how you know this?'

'You know how I know; now you get somewhere safe, then call and leave me a number. If anything else shows up I can call you that way.'

'No chance that this is a prank or something.'

'No, you know me better than that.'

'You're right, I do. Thanks Gary.'

'You're welcome, now be careful; and don't forget to call.'

As she was walking down to her car, she was wondering where she could go that would be safe. She tried and rejected several possibilities in her mind before she hit on the obvious solution. She just hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

Gary was scanning the crowd at the intersection, hoping he would find the lady before things got critical.

"OK Hobson, what's going on?"

He turned and smiled down at the petite detective. "Brigatti, there's something I need to tell you. You know all the things I get into, and how I say I'm just in the right place at the right time, and when you press I just say I know what's gonna happen."

"Yeah, it's annoying as hell."

"Well, you deserve to know how all that works. Two things; please keep an open mind and even if you don't believe it, you can't tell anyone."

"Why"

"Just promise me."

"OK, I promise."

"OK, you know I always have that newspaper with me. Well, it's not an ordinary newspaper. It's tomorrow's newspaper."

"What the hell does that mean 'tomorrow's newspaper'?"

"Here, show me your copy of the _Sun-Times_. Look at the date and the front page, then look at mine."

"The dates are wrong and the headline is different; even the pictures are different."

"Yeah, they are. I get this paper at 6:30 every morning; it comes along with that cat you love so much, then I have twenty four hours to change things."

"Change things, what kind of things."

"Like this, look at the bottom of A-15."

"OK, I've got an add for a liquor store."

"Yeah, but my paper says there's gonna be a hit and run right here in about two minutes; see."

"OK so someone's gonna get hurt, what can you do?"

"I change it so they don't get hurt."

"Really, just like that."

"Sometimes. Sometimes it's more complicated."

Just then he saw her, a young mother with a baby in a front papoose and a toddler by her side. As she approached the intersection, Gary walked up to her.

"Excuse me ma'am, do you send your son to day care?"

"Who the hell are you and why do you want to know?"

"My name is Gary" he pointed towards Brigatti, "my wife and I are new to the area and we're looking for a good day care for our three year old."

The woman's expression changed to something a little less harsh; Brigatti had her face behind the paper, but Gary knew he was gonna catch hell for saying that they were married. "No, I'm a stay at home mom, sorry."

"That's OK ma'am, thank you for your time." Gary had to speak up due to a car with a bad muffler that was roaring through the intersection at the time.

She proceeded through the intersection without being hit, or even having a close call.

Gary walked back over to where Brigatti was standing; she had an incredulous look on her face. "It changed, right when I was reading it, it changed. You stopped her from being hit."

"Yeah, that's what I do."

"For how long, and why you?"

"Listen Brigatti, I'll do my best to answer all your questions, but how about we do it over dinner; I happen to own a little place near here, the food's pretty good."

"You're pushing it Hobson" was all Brigatti said, but she hooked her arm into his and together they headed for McGinty's. "Hey what's up with telling her we're married?"

Gary just sighed and was thankful she hadn't belted him.


	2. Tall Tales and Confessions

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 2

There were two successful bank robberies in the Metro-Chicago area last year. There were also twelve foiled bank robberies that same year. Of those twelve, Hobson was directly involved in stopping eight of them; however, of the other four, three were warned by an anonymous tip moments before the robbers got there, and at the last one, a blind lady warned the bank, her name was Marissa Clark. So, why did Hobson stop twelve robberies but not all fourteen? What was it about those two that caused him to not be involved? The obvious answer is that he had something to gain from it. Somehow those two robberies benefited him in some way. I also find it significant that no money from either of those robberies has ever turned up in circulation; nor have the robbers been caught. I know Hobson was behind them both, and I'm gonna find out how.

McGinty's was about as middle class as you can get. No commodity brokers; no bikers, just an average base of patrons, and a pretty good menu. George and Tony ran the kitchen like a Swiss watch. They had free reign to try new things, without going overboard. Abby, Tony's wife, helped Marissa with the books when she wasn't at the Library, and Robin, who was now assistant manager, took care of the floor. Then, of course, there was Crumb behind the bar, dispensing both drinks and wisdom, and keeping the rowdier elements in line. This support group, overseen by Marissa, allowed Gary all the time and resources he needed to handle the paper's demands. It was a pretty good night for a Wednesday. The Bulls were on the big screen; unfortunately they were in the process of getting hammered by the Pistons. Gary grimaced, he could live with the Bulls or the Cubs or the Sox or the Bears or the Black Hawks losing, as long as it wasn't to some damned team from Detroit. Ah well, he had more important business tonight. He maneuvered Brigatti over to his table, and motioned for Robin to bring over a menu. He waited while Brigatti sat down and then sat himself. He looked over at her, but she was watching the game.

"You follow the Bulls?"

"Hell no, I'm originally from Pontiac, I love the Pistons." She gave a 'whoop' as Ben Wallace blocked yet another shot. This earned her several dirty looks, especially from the man sitting across from her.

"Um, you might want to keep that down here, we are in Chicago after all."

She ordered the 'Chef's Salad', and a bowl of soup, he got a grinder. "Lighten up Hobson; it's been forever since I've even caught part of a game. So, you, the paper and everything."

"What do you want to know?"

"Just begin at the beginning, and we'll go from there."

"OK, about six years ago, my wife decided she wanted a divorce, so I moved into this hotel called 'The Blackstone' . . . ."

About six hours later, and surviving surprised looks from most of the staff, the two were shooting pool. Brigatti was giving Gary quite a run for his money. The staff had gone home, as well as the patrons, so they had the bar to themselves.

"So, she told her whole family that you two were getting married and the lot of them came over from Ireland for the wedding."

"Yeah, it turns out she married the INS agent who was looking for her; unfortunately he had been knocked out by her brothers and put in a dumpster. We all had to steal a bus to go rescue him, before he became part of a landfill."

"I gotta tell you Hobson, you never do anything halfway."

"Thanks, I think."

"So, why are you letting me in on a secret this huge now, after all the time we've known each other?"

Gary blushed a bit, "I figured that if there was a future possibility of us, I had to be honest with you. I couldn't stand lying to someone I really care about."

"Care about, what are you babbling about Hobson?"

He put down his cue and walked towards her; suddenly she felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to move. "I-I-I really care about you Brigatti, and I believe that it might be l-l-love; I don't want to loose that because you find out something that I've been hiding. If there is gonna be a relationship, I want you to know the truth."

He had stopped right in front of her, gazing down into her luminous brown eyes. Her face was slowly getting red, the blush climbing her cheeks.

"You think you love me?" The hope and fear flared in her eyes.

"I think so, yeah; so I'd really like to get to know you better. You're a fascinating, beautiful, brilliant woman; and I'd be an idiot to let you go if there's a possibility that you're the one."

She gazed at him silently for a moment or two, his words sinking in; "you think I'm beautiful" she murmured as they leaned in for a long, satisfying kiss.

"Yeah Toni, I think you're beautiful."

They were enjoying another kiss when suddenly she went stiff.

"What's the matter Brigatti?"

"I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I? I mean you've helped me out of at least two jams, I was supposed to die those times, wasn't I?"

"Actually, it's been four times, and yeah, you were supposed to die; but I stopped it, like I did with the lady today."

Her eyes were wide, and she looked a bit afraid of the handsome man in front of her; "that's why you called that time and told me to wear my vest and carry a spare gun, you knew it was gonna go bad."

"You were just gonna get shot, but Armstrong was supposed to die that day; like I said, that's the kind of stuff I stop."

"Why?"

"Howzat?"

"Why do you stop fate, I mean if someone is supposed to die, shouldn't they die; what about God's plan in all of this?"

"I just can't sit back and let someone be killed or hurt if I can prevent it. When I first started getting this thing, I ignored a story and a friend of mine was put in the hospital; I just am unable to sit back and let people be hurt, I just can't. As to God's plan and all, I'd like to think we have a bit of say in that plan, and maybe what I'm doing is preserving the balance, or keeping fate from running amok, or something like that."

The fear had left her face, but another thought hit her; "you could be a multi-millionaire, couldn't you. Place the right bet, pick the right stock; you could use that thing to buy and sell Bill Gates, couldn't you?"

"Yeah, that's occurred to me once or twice; it occurred to Chuck all the time, but I guess it just feels wrong to use it that way. Don't get me wrong, money is great stuff to have, but I couldn't stand using something this momentous just to make myself rich; it's just too big for that."

"So instead you 'Clark Kent' your way through life as Gary Hobson, bar owner; without anyone really knowing how this whole city depends on you. Has anyone ever gotten close to the truth, I mean someone that you didn't tell?"

"Scanlon was on the trail, but he just couldn't wrap his mind around the whole 'altruistic psychic' bit, and he was digging pretty hard. What?"

At the mention of the reporter's name, Brigatti had gotten a pained expression on her face. She gazed up at Gary with real hurt in her eyes. "I wanted to tell you for the longest time, I'm sorry I didn't help you when you asked me. I knew you were innocent, in my gut I knew; but I couldn't bring myself to admit it. It's haunted me sometimes how close I came to shooting you, sometimes in my nightmares, I do." She had dropped her gaze to the floor, and her voice had thickened with emotion. "I'm just so sorry Gary."

"It's OK, and hey; you helped out plenty later on, risking your life and all for me and Armstrong. You were doing your job, something you're good at, never apologize for that." He put two fingers under her chin and raised her eyes to his. His words had been sincere, he hadn't blamed her for her actions, and he truly had been thankful for everything that she had done to help clear him.

"You're a good guy Gary; I guess that somehow I've always known that." She moved towards him and found comfort in the circle of his arms. They just stood there, neither of them wanting to break the moment. Unfortunately the church clock down the street did that for them, chiming three A.M.

"Oh my God, I've got to get home; I've got to be at work in the morning."

"You can stay here if you want; I've slept on the couch before."

"You sure? After all, I'm shorter than you."

"Yeah, I'm sure; they'd revoke my 'Chivalry License' if I let a lovely lady sleep on the couch while I took the bed."

She fluttered her eyes at him and with a breathless, teasing tone said "thank you kind sir for saving this damsel in distress."

Gary laughed, and as they were headed up the stairs he said "you're no damsel Brigatti, and I've never seen you in distress."

Toni laughed back, "and don't you forget it Hobson."

Meredith Carson was asleep in her car at a rest area just east of South Bend, Indiana. She had run west from DC; in Dayton she had ditched her car in a mall parking lot, after changing the plates. She had taken this particular plate off of a junked care that was the same make and model as hers. With any luck it would never be traced to her, even if it was found. She had picked up a beater there, and had gotten this far. She would be in Chicago tomorrow. She hoped that that would be the end of her running; she hoped she'd be safe there; and she hoped Gary's eyes weren't as gorgeous as she remembered.


	3. Mornings and Meetings

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 3

The 'Frank Scanlon' case is a typical example of how Hobson does business. You've got him dead to rights, when he pulls someone or something out of left field and muddies the water enough to get away. I know that he had something to do with Scanlon's murder, but then he exposes a murder for hire ring inside the department and suddenly everyone's so concerned about that, that Hobson being a fugitive isn't so important. Well, it's important to me. Yeah, I know he saved my life, and I know he saved my wife and kid; that just shows me how calculating he truly is. He gets me to drop my guard, to trust him, and then he works right under my nose. It's like that line from a movie 'the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing people that he didn't exist'. Well I believe he does exist, and I believe he's Gary Hobson.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meow . . . . . . Thump

'the weather today will be' "Geez Hobson, where the hell's the off switch for this thing"?

Gary's eyes flew open; for a second he didn't remember the events of the night before, or why he was on his couch. Brigatti's voice and Cat's yowling brought him to his senses. He looked up to see Toni, bleary eyed and with serious bed hair, nearly beating his clock to death, trying to get it to shut off.

Pulling himself off the couch, he went over and shut the alarm off, then went to the door to get the paper. Cat looked up at him expectantly, but Gary just shook his head; "sorry buddy, she's allergic, go see if George can feed you". With that he closed the door in Cat's face and turned back to see how Brigatti was doing. Obviously mornings were not her time to shine. Once the alarm had been silenced, she had fallen back onto the bed and was currently rubbing her eyes and muttering bitterly about early risers.

He paused for a second, because even with bed hair, a lack of make-up and sleep deprivation; Brigatti was just stunningly beautiful. She was laying there in a Bears jersey and a pair of tube socks, and Gary thought to himself that he had never seen a woman look prettier. He shook his head and stalked off to his chair to check out the paper before she noticed his attention. At first glance it looked like a pretty light day. Another hit and run, a fire at a meat packing plant and a mugging near Grant Park. A typical day for Chicago's version of Superman. The first item didn't take place until ten that morning so he had plenty of time for breakfast and a shower.

He turned to his current bunkmate "Hey Brigatti, you want the shower first?"

She sat up and gave him a surprised look. "Why would I shower here, I do have a home you know."

"Yeah, but you're here now, I thought a shower might wake you up."

"Nah, thanks Hobson, I'll just head home and catch a shower there, thanks for the offer though." She noticed the paper in his hands "anything I need to know about?"

"A mugging, but usually I can stop those without involving anyone. These guys usually give it up if they see me around; after all, they're looking for an easy mark."

"I hear ya, just be careful and don't hesitate to call if you need a hand."

"I will, thanks Toni."

"No problem, um Hobson, you got a pair of sweats I could wear home?"

"Sure Brigatti, bottom drawer, help yourself."

The petite detective finally got out of bed and stretched her hands up towards the ceiling, elongating her body, and twisting to work out the kinks. Gary looked up at the noise she was making and his eyes almost bugged out of his head. Reluctantly he buried them back into the paper before Brigatti noticed him staring. She gave a huge sigh, pulled a pair of sweat pants out of the bottom drawer and went into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, she emerged, collected her things and went to leave. She found Gary standing at the door to his loft.

"See ya tonight Brigatti?"

"I don't know yet Hobson, I've got a couple things pending, but I'll let you know."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "I hope I see you later, and be safe."

He stepped back and opened the door for her. She smiled a thank you and headed down the stairs. Brigatti was headed out as Marissa was coming in. The sprightly Italian gave a cheery "good morning Marissa" and kept going past the startled woman.

Marissa stepped inside and took a deep breath. Obviously something had gone on, but she wasn't sure what. She liked the fiery detective, but she wasn't sure if she was really Gary's type. In her usual manner, she decided to tackle things head on. She went up to the loft, where she heard water running; Gary was taking a shower. Marissa smiled to herself, Gary was singing, badly it's true, but singing none the less. Things must have definitely gone well. She opened the door just as Gary was turning the water off and handed him a towel.

"Fun night last night?"

"Marissa! A little privacy please."

"Come on Gary, it's not like I'm gonna see anything."

"It's the principle of the thing."

"OK, OK; so you have a fun time with Brigatti?"

"Yeah, I actually did."

"Any special reason?"

"I told her about the paper."

"Why?"

"Well, I figured that I'd have to, if there was gonna be any kind of a relationship. I didn't want to be lying to her all of the time, so, I told her."

"A relationship? With Brigatti?"

"Maybe, and even if it doesn't work out, it can't hurt to have someone who knows the truth on the force."

"Do you think you can trust her?"

"Obviously, or I wouldn't have told her; she's saved my bacon more than once, and she's a good person."

"Well, well; so last night?"

"Last night we talked until three AM and then she slept here, in the bed; and I slept on the couch."

"Are you going to see her again?"

"We'll just have to wait and see about that. Hey, I've got an hour or two, any paperwork that needs doing?"

"No, we're pretty ship-shape at the moment; I'll see you downstairs."

Marissa left Gary to get dressed and went down to the office. She could read Gary so well, and she was astounded to realize that he was really happy; maybe for the first time since Chuck had left. 'Good for you Brigatti' she thought to herself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Back at her townhouse, Brigatti kept replaying the night's events. Hobson had been the perfect gentleman; charming, polite and funny. She hadn't had a night like that in some time. She thought of Kingman and some of the other cops she had dated; things never seemed to work out. Conflicting schedules, conflicting egos; not a good recipe for romance, and when the detective was being honest with herself, she wanted a bit of romance in her life. She now knew that Hobson's schedule was literally at the whim of fate, but he didn't seem to have an ego, at least professionally. Plus, he thought she was beautiful, and no one had told her that in some time. The whole concept of knowing what was going to happen a day ahead of time gave her the willies, but she had heard of stranger things. And truthfully, she could think of no one she would trust more with that kind of responsibility. She got dressed and went to work, but she had a hard time getting Hobson out of her mind.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary stopped the hit and run easily enough with his trusty tennis ball. Some idiot was on his cell phone and not paying attention to the lights. Gary had tried to clear the cross walk, always his first option, but that had proven impossible; so, when he saw the car coming, he chucked the ball at the windshield. The driver had looked up, seen the people and jammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt about a foot from the nearest pedestrian. He had come charging out of the car, intent on blaming Gary for the near miss, but enough of the pedestrians had remained around; so when he started yelling at Gary, the almost victims seemed to decide that they should lynch the driver from the nearest street light. So Gary was delayed because now he had to prevent the driver from being injured. It all worked out in the end, but it made him late for the fire.

He knew he would be late, so he called 911 from a pay phone. He preferred using pay phones because he didn't want to be traced if he could help it. When he arrived at the scene, the paper said that only one worker would be injured, but that he was in critical condition. Gary had an extinguisher ready to go, and went in after the man. Using the extinguisher to clear a path, he found the man passed out from the fumes created by some burning plastic. Gary picked him up, but now he had become turned around. Not sure about his path out, he looked for any exit. He saw some light off to his left and maneuvered that way. He found some windows and, putting the man down for a moment, used the extinguisher to break them out. The fresh air energized him and he hoisted the unconscious worker over the sill, and followed after. Covered in soot and coughing he carried the man over to where the Fire Department and EMS had set up. After seeing that the guy was being taken care of, he wandered off towards McGinty's looking forward to a shower and some clean clothes. When the EMT had the victim stable he looked around for the guy that had dragged him over. He couldn't find anyone that matched the features he remembered, and none of the firemen had seen anyone. He was still puzzling over the mysterious Samaritan when he was stopped by a photographer for the _Sun-Times. _He was surprised when the wiry Latino described the guy perfectly. "So, you know who the guy is" he asked. The photographer just shook his head and walked away muttering to himself. The only word the EMT heard clearly was 'Hobson'.

Gary walked into the bar looking like an extra from a disaster movie. The staff and regulars were used to his strange comings and goings, and every one of them created differing explanations for his appearance at these times. Honestly it was as much a part of the atmosphere as the cat that hung around the bar. Marissa, of course, was told that Mr. Hobson had returned and that he was in a bit of a state. 'Thank you Brent" she told the day bartender; and went up to see what had happened.

She walked into the loft, just as Gary was stepping into the shower. She heard the spray, and for the second time that day, just walked right in.

"You OK in there?"

Gary, who had been expecting this visit, answered "I'm fine Marissa, could you have them send up a sandwich and some lemonade, Lunch was a bit interrupted".

Marissa went to relay the order, then waited in one of the chairs, stroking Cat and waiting for Gary to come out of the bathroom.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not much to say. I got turned around in a burning building and had to find an alternate exit. He was pretty bad, but not as bad as he could have been, and I was just singed a bit; no real damage."

"Do I have to remind you to be careful?"

"No, and I was; at least as careful as possible."

Just then the lunch arrived; Gary thanked the young waitress and sat down to eat. "She's new, who is that"?

"Melanie, I think she's a runaway, but I couldn't prove it. Anyway, she's a good waitress and the staff likes her, so if she ever wants to talk, she'll have friends around to listen."

Gary leaned over and clasped his friend's hand. "I'm not the only one quietly doing good deeds here, am I?"

Marissa didn't blush, but her voice became a little flustered. "I hired a good waitress, that's it."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did, but the first thing you told me about her was that you think she's a runaway, that tells me that one reason you hired her was so you could help her when she decided she needed help. You're not forcing her, just supporting her until she feels comfortable enough to talk. Listen Marissa, I'm not jealous, or even upset; in fact I'm proud of you."

"ME? Why?"

"Because you do everything you can to help me with what I have to do, and you still find time to help others, because that's the kind of person that you are. Most people don't look up from their lives to even notice anyone else in this world, don't be ashamed for wanting to help; be ashamed that more people don't help."

Marissa got up, she had been afraid that Gary would be upset, as though she had been poaching on his turf; even Gary could surprise her from time to time. As she was moving to the door, Gary's voice stopped her.

"Marissa, if you want to hire Crumb to look into her particulars or go outside for a private detective, just let me know and I'll take care of the bill."

She just smiled and nodded, not really needing to say anything else. As she headed back downstairs she reminded herself again how truly good a man Gary Hobson was.

His last save was at three, so he called Brigatti to see if she would be able to make it over that evening. "Sorry Hobson, I've got four open cases and one possibility on my desk, I'll be here at least until seven."

"No problem Toni, some other night then" and hung up the phone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meredith Carson had been walking around Grant Park for the last two hours. She knew what she needed to do, but getting up the nerve to do it was a bit of a problem at the moment. She was still walking, lost in thought, when she heard feet pounding the pavement near her and a voice yelling "hey lady, watch out". She looked up to see a small, fairly young man get tackled by a much larger man. A lady standing near them both was holding her purse and looking like she would pass out. Meredith, knowing instantly what was happening right in front of her, grabbed the frightened woman and told her to run and find the police. This, the woman did quite well. 'Maybe she's on a track team', Meredith thought to herself as she considered the sprinting woman. Turning back to the two men, she could see that they had separated, but that the smaller one had a knife. He was feinting at Gary (of course she recognized him), and trying to get away. Since he wasn't paying any attention to her, Meredith picked up a good sized branch that was lying nearby and proceeded to bash him over the head with it. His eyes rolled up and he folded onto the ground. She could see that Gary was about to pick up the knife.

"Stop, you don't want to touch that. Just kick it away from his hand." Gary did so, and then looked up to thank whoever had helped him. His animated face became an almost comic blank as he recognized the woman standing in front of him.

"Meredith" he said, as though he was hoping she was a mirage. "I thought you were gonna head somewhere safe."

She gave a little chuckle; "can you think of anywhere safer than with a guy that knows what's gonna happen before it happens? You kept me safe before, I trust you to do it again."

Apparently the running woman had actually managed to notify the police, because as they were talking a couple of Chicago's finest came on to the scene. Meredith explained what she had seen, and Gary said that he was coming to meet Meredith and saw the guy trying to mug the other lady. Both officers looked up when Gary told them his name, but neither of them pursued that line of questioning. They cuffed the would be mugger and hauled him off. Done with the paper for the day, Gary motioned to Meredith "let's get back to where we can sit down, and then you can tell me what's going on". Chatting like they saw each other all the time, the pair headed for McGinty's.


	4. Toni and Meredith

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 4

I guess what bothers me the most about Hobson is how everyone seems to like him. Winslow, Brigatti, Crumb, all the officers, and hell even the desk Sergeant likes him; and I thought that man wasn't capable of liking anyone. Sure, everyone knows he's a flake, and Hobson comes up with some of the wildest explanations that you've ever heard, but they treat him like some harmless eccentric uncle. No one seems to be capable of looking past what they see and wonder why he's always involved in shady stuff. I refuse to believe that I'm the only one here who is curious about his ties to, and involvement in, crime. Unfortunately the alternative is to believe that he has somehow compromised all of the police that he has come into contact with. Neither option really appeals, but I can see no other. The same goes for his friends. Reporters like Molly Green and Miguel Diaz don't give anyone a break, but they cut Hobson plenty of slack. The staff at his bar thinks he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, and his partner, Marissa Clark, would lay down her life for him. Again, either she's the greatest actress that's ever lived or he's doing a number on her. It can't be romantic, she's engaged; but what other hold could he have. Hobson has an ex wife, maybe she saw through him. They say people were fanatically loyal to Hitler; I wonder what that kind of magnetism must feel like.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary and Meredith walked back to the bar; talking as though the last five years had just been a long weekend. Touching on subjects like the Cubs and the city, politics and pizza, the kind of things that never changed. They got back and sat down at Gary's table.

"I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, to trust me with your life; but" he held up the paper "you know this thing isn't perfect."

"Yeah, I know, but its close enough for me."

"You're probably better off staying with me than in a hotel, but I'll warn you, I do snore."

"I remember" she said. And Gary realized that she would indeed remember; that and quite a few other details about his life. This caused him to blush, something that Meredith had known would happen.

Suddenly uncomfortable, he looked at his watch; it was nearly five in the afternoon, they had been talking for nearly an hour and he hadn't noticed. He stood and said "there's something I really need to take care of; just order what you want off the menu and I'll be up later; don't wait up for me."

Meredith looked a bit confused but really wasn't in a position to argue.

Gary made his way towards Marissa. "I need to talk for a second." Marissa had heard about Gary talking with a woman who was definitely not Brigatti, and was actually quite curious as to what was going on. Silently they made their way back to the office; fortunately Abby was still at the Library.

"So, who is she?"

"Meredith Carson, you remember, the reporter."

"The one that knows about the paper, right?"

"That's her. Two days ago I read that she was gonna be shot, so I called to warn her, I guess she's in some kind of trouble because she ran all the way here, and now she wants me to protect her."

"From what?"

"I don't know, but what am I gonna do, leave her on the street? I mean, I do know that someone's trying to kill her."

"So you're letting her stay in the loft?"

"Unless you have a better idea."

"Not at the moment, but you better figure out how to tell Brigatti that you've got a former girlfriend staying at your place. I mean figure out how to tell her so that she doesn't just kill you."

"Yeah, this I know; any ideas?"

"Sorry, you're on your own Romeo."

"Funny, real funny Marissa."

"So have you got anything else to do tonight?"

"No, the paper work is all done so I was gonna pick up some dinner for me and Brigatti, she's working late tonight."

"Hmmmm, romantic and practical; there's hope for you yet."

"Thanks Marissa, just keep an eye on Meredith, OK."

"OK, and have fun."

"I'll do my best, but no guarantees."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Toni Brigatti had been working a huge amount of overtime lately. She had four open investigations, two of which were very high profile and another one that the brass wanted labeled a suicide, but she was balking because it didn't feel right. She knew that she tended to bite off too much, but she just didn't know how to say no when she saw the kind of dirt-bags she was after. She gave a huge sigh and looked at all the paperwork on her desk, wondering which case would benefit the most from a little work. She heard a knock on her door and groaning at the interruption looked up to see Gary Hobson standing in her doorway. "I thought you'd be needing some dinner."

Belatedly she saw the Chinese take out in his hand. "You're a lifesaver Hobson" she said with a grin. He set up the food on a low filing cabinet near her desk, while she just sat back and looked at him.

He looked around and noticed her staring at him; "what" he asked.

"Nothing" she answered, shaking herself out of her romantic reverie. "What've ya got there?"

"Empress Chicken and fried rice; I hope that's OK."

"Sounds great, so, you have a good day?"

"Oh the usual" he answered while he dished up the chicken and rice; "almost burned up in a fire, had to keep a mob from killing an idiot, and fought with a mugger, you?"

"Weird case, young lady and a lot of pills; it looks like suicide, but it doesn't feel right, you know what I mean? Oh, and your name popped up in the mugging case; the officers may contact you for a formal statement."

"Why?"

"Probably because it's you. Armstrong has something going about you, so he runs every one of your 'involvements' through the ringer."

They ate in silence for a while, then Gary began looking at the crime scene photos from the 'suicide'. "Hey Brigatti, had anything been moved when this picture was taken?"

"No, why?"

"How many pills did she take?"

"Over fifty, again why?"

"Could you dry swallow that many pills?"

"No way, what are you getting at Hobson?"

"Well, there's no glass, no bottle, no liquid of any kind around her; what did she wash the pills down with?"

Brigatti looked at the photos again. Hobson was right; there was nothing to wash the pills down, nothing at all. "I'll be damned, good catch Hobson. You realize though, that you just made more work for me; one more homicide to deal with."

"Sorry Brigatti, I was just looking."

"Don't be, it's better than having some creep running around out there free." They were reading their fortunes when Toni changed the subject. "In this mugging report, it says that there was some woman you were meeting in the park, what's that all about?" She hoped it didn't show, but there was more than a little jealousy working on her right now.

"Her name is Meredith Carson, she's a reporter for the Washington Post; she used to be with the _Sun-Times_ but got a better job out east. About five years ago she found out about the paper and tried to use it to help her career, it didn't quite work out. We were an item for a bit, but then she left. She's back because someone wants her dead and she thinks that I'm the perfect guy to protect her."

"Is that her story or did you see something in that?" Toni waved at the paper in Gary's pocket.

"I read about her getting killed and warned her; coming out here was all her idea."

"So, where is she now?"

"McGinty's" Gary answered with a bit of trepidation.

Brigatti knew she should be mad, but surprisingly she wasn't. She knew that Hobson could no more turn his back on someone in trouble that the sun could stop rising in the east. Sure it bothered her that some girl from his past was in town, but she did trust him. Of course if he abused that trust, she would definitely make him regret it, but she figured he already knew that. "Come on Hobson, let's get over to your place and see Nancy Drew. Maybe we can figure out why someone wants her dead."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, if I prevent a murder, that's less work for me. Besides, some of those pesky morals of yours are starting to rub off."

Gary gave a lopsided grin, "well then, let's go see Nancy."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meredith had been shooting the occasional game of pool and talking with Crumb since dinner. She really wasn't sure what to do or whether or not she should even be here. She heard the door, and looked up to see Gary walk in; this lifted her spirits until she saw him escort a short, very pretty brunet in as well. He smiled and waved her over. They gathered at Gary's table and he made the introductions; "Meredith Carson, meet detective Toni Brigatti, one of Chicago's finest and formerly with the U.S. Marshall's. Toni, meet Meredith Carson, Pulitzer prize winning reporter from the Washington Post."

Both women greeted each other a bit warily. Toni knew who Meredith was and what she had been to Gary, and Meredith was intelligent and insightful enough to figure out that Brigatti wasn't simply the first detective he had run across; there was some obvious chemistry.

Gary ordered the women coffee and a desert (he knew enough to make sure it was chocolate) while he grabbed a beer for himself and sat at the bar to see if the Bulls would do any better against the Pistons tonight.

"So, who would top the list of folks that would like to see you dead?"

"Not much for beating around the bush, are you; let's see, colleagues, senators, congressmen, lobbyists, and the odd judge or two."

"Those are just possibilities; I mean who's most likely to be willing to carry it out. I doubt a colleague of yours would actually try to kill you; screw you up maybe, but murder is quite a leap."

"The top two would be a senator from Iowa, and a group of Bio-Tech lobbyists. The senator is about to be nailed for rigging an election for some friends and the lobbyists are about to have their pet funding evaporate. Both thanks to me and my stories."

"If you went away, would both those things still happen?"

"Yeah, the wheels are already in motion."

"So, they're not so likely."

"What do you mean?"

"Well the damage has already been done; the only thing they gain from bumping you off is revenge and notoriety. No, we're looking for someone who you haven't yet gone to press about, but fears that you will soon. Killing you will stop their exposure, and that's a much better motive than revenge."

"Crap, I've got at least a dozen that I've done some work on, in all branches of the government and private areas."

"OK, so let's look at the people that dropped off your net, were they killed, did they disappear, did someone lean on them, any ideas what happened?"

"No, I was just starting to check it out when Gary called and told me about getting killed. Made it hard to care about anything else."

"So you still got their numbers, any way to check out what's happened. I know DC's got quite the murder rate, but a bunch of bodies would generate some talk."

"Yeah, I held onto a couple, and here's the names of some of them, maybe you could check them out quietly and at least see if they're dead or missing."

"Thanks, I'll try that. Any way someone could have gotten a hold of your informants list?"

"Of course, but it would have to be someone very smart of very lucky."

"Why's that?"

"I use an encryption system that was used during the Revolutionary War called the fence rail cipher. It uses two lines of text and you alternate letters from each line. Now traditionally the lines were on top of each other, but I vary it so that you really can't predict which lines go together. I even have some red herrings in there that will give fake information. So if anyone broke it, they'd have to either have to be very lucky or a cryptologist."

"That or just have a hell of a lot of time on their hands."

"Good point."

"So any of the guys you're aiming those new stories at fall into one of those categories?"

"Not really, but some of them could easily hire people like that."

"So we're back to everyone is a suspect."

"Yeah, with the information we have now, if we find anyone missing or dead, it'll narrow the field down a lot."

"Great, we have to wait until someone dies to figure out who wants to kill you; as options that one kind of sucks."

"You're right, but at the moment, I'm out of ideas."

"Me too, so; why'd you become a reporter?"

Business aside for the moment, the two women just started getting to know each other. Despite their different appearances and backgrounds, they soon discovered in each other kindred spirits. Both excelled in careers dominated by men, both enjoyed the challenge of their jobs and both took zero crap from anyone.

As she listened to the reporter, Brigatti realized something, if she could pick her family, Meredith would be her sister. Whatever she was doing got every bit of her effort, she knew the possible consequences of what she did for a living and didn't let it stop her. She was tough, funny, and she had that old school attitude that also set Brigatti apart from her colleagues.

For her part, Meredith was impressed by Brigatti's competence and fire. She too recognized someone who excelled at a man's job in a man's world. Like Toni she found herself wishing she and the other woman had time to become friends. In the petite Italian, the lanky WASP from Missouri had found a similar soul.

They were winding down, shooting a rack of pool; "OK Carson, let's shake some trees and see who drops out" Brigatti said, while fixing Meredith with a bit of a glare. Then encompassing Gary in her instructions said "let me know if you remember or hear anything, either of you, OK."

Meredith just smiled and said "thanks, I will". Gary looked a bit flummoxed and said nothing but got up and walked Brigatti to McGinty's door. "Thanks for everything Toni" he said giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for dinner and everything else" she replied; "and I'll see you tomorrow Hobson." Being uncommonly bold, she leaned up and kissed him right there in front of everyone. Needless to say there was a lot of hooting and some applause from both the regulars and staff, which made Gary blush so bad he was almost turning scarlet. Brigatti left, and amidst the good natured razzing Gary made his way back to Meredith's table only to find her laughing as well. "She's great Gary, for the sake of your jaw, you better not screw it up" she managed to get this out between giggles.

"You're not jealous?"

"A bit. I'd be lying if I told you it didn't sting a little and I'd really be lying if I said I hadn't wondered 'what if' a time or two about us. But you two are great together and I'm not gonna screw that up, I couldn't stand it if I did. Not to mention the fact that Toni would bust my ass."

"She does have a bit of a temper ant a pretty good right cross."

"All the more reason to behave."

After Meredith had gone to bed and Gary was crashed out on the sofa, he gazed up at the ceiling and wondered how he had gotten so lucky. Toni and Meredith liked each other, he wasn't going to question the how's and why's of such a stroke of fortune.


	5. Bad News and Snitches

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 5

I know what I said earlier sounds funny, but I really believe that Hobson saved my wife and me just so I would give him a free pass when he asked for one. I mean, for all I know, that blond friend of his slipped Meredith something so she would pass out and Hobson could save the day. I wonder as well if he knew about the baby she was carrying. I believe he is cold blooded enough to have waited until she was pregnant to increase the dramatic impact. I know he's saved me more than once and he's helped me on cases as well. I can only figure that he believed that I would be so grateful the first time that I would do anything for him; or maybe he was simply using me to get rid of some competition. Anyway, when I made it clear that I wouldn't cut him a break, he just kept doing it so he could tell me 'I owed him'; which I guess I do, but I'm never gonna look the other way for him. I know what he is.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meow . . . . . . Thump

"Traffic along the Dan Ryan is backed up due . ." Gary was confused for a second. The alarm had shut off, but he hadn't done it. Then he realized he was on his couch, and ho wondered if he had simply dreamed the last day. He sat up and saw a very feminine form in his bed yet again. But this one had his Cubs jersey on and no socks and brown hair; definitely not Brigatti. He was just sitting there looking at the woman in his bed, when the events of yesterday came slamming back into his mind and finally Cat's yowling was able to cut through his fugue state and he got up and opened the door. Cat gave him a rather hard glare; Gary was convinced that Cat was mad about yesterday as it sauntered in. Gary picked up the paper, for whatever reason, he had a bad feeling about today. His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he saw the front page. Some guy that had failed the CTA test for the seventh time had decided to take out his frustrations by shooting the motormen on the El trains at the Dearborn Street station. The shooting was supposed to start in an hour and a half. He was gonna shoot six motormen, three cops, and five bystanders before killing himself. Seven others would be wounded. He had a bit of time, so he checked the rest of the paper. There seemed to be only two other incidents that required his attention. A car was going to hit an electric pole and the driver would be electrocuted getting out of the car, and a painting scaffold was going to collapse, killing the painter and injuring five bystanders. Fortunately these were in the afternoon so Gary could devote his morning to dealing with the gunman. He tried to figure out how to handle it while feeding Cat, and kept coming up with the same solution. He picked up the phone and dialed Brigatti's cell.

"Brigatti"

"Toni, its Gary, there's something you should know about."

Brigatti had been getting ready to take a shower and now she stopped. Hobson was asking for help. She knew it had to be pretty bad because she had seen him take care of some pretty nasty stuff on his own. "What's gonna happen Hobson?"

"This guy is gonna have a real bad day and start shooting anyone or anything that moves at the Dearborn Street station at eight this morning. He's supposed to kill fourteen, including three cops.

"So, how do you want to handle this?"

"Well, we'll meet there; try to figure out who it is before the gun comes out. If we can do that then I tackle him and you arrest him for possessing an assault rifle. If the gun is already out then I try to talk him down, while I'm doing that, you get as close as possible. If he doesn't go for what I say then you take him down."

"What do you mean, 'take him down'?"

"You know, hit him on the head, disarm him, that kind of thing."

"You don't want me to just shoot him on sight?"

"Christ no Toni, that would be murder; not to mention how you would justify it to your colleagues."

"Just checking Hobson; I don't want to end up being your personal hit squad."

"How could you think I'd want anything like that?"

"Sorry, just chalk it up to my cynical nature, OK?" Toni was beginning to realize how huge a mistake she had just made. Not only had she accused Hobson of being the kind of person that could casually kill someone, she had also suggested that he had created this relationship with her solely to get someone who would be willing to kill for him. She saw some major apologizing in her future; she just hoped he would give her the chance to do it.

"Whatever Brigatti, 8 o'clock at the Dearborn Street station, if you can get there by 7:45, that'd be great."

"Sure Hobson, I'll see ya there." She hung up the phone, feeling worse than she had in a long time.

Gary was trying not to think about what Brigatti had suggested. In all honesty he was more worried about anyone being hurt. Completely oblivious to Meredith, who was still in his bed, he began to change.

"Uhm, much as I appreciate the show, you may want to change in the bathroom."

Gary nearly jumped out of his skin when Meredith spoke up, then he immediately started backing towards the bathroom and stammering his apology. He finally found the bathroom and with a final "sorry" slammed the door.

Meredith got up and saw the headline '14 People Dead'. As she scanned the rest of the front section, she realized how much she missed the _Sun-Times_, both the people and the stories they told. She loved the intensity of DC, but she hated the constant hunt mentality for her fellow journalists. She was after stories, they seemed to just be after heads, the bigger they could bring down, the better they believed themselves to be. Frankly it made her wonder if they were really after the truth or just fame. She sat back in a very comfortable chair in Gary's loft wondering what the hell she was really doing with her life.

Gary came out of the bathroom and saw her sitting there with the paper and a lost expression on her face. He froze for an instant, but then reminded himself that she already knew the consequences of what she held in her hands.

When she saw him, she silently handed it back to him. "Did you call Brigatti about this front page?"

"Yeah" he muttered "she asked me if I just wanted her to shoot him on sight."

Meredith was surprised that the detective had said something like that, and she could see Gary was upset. "Hey, remember she's still getting used to the reality of this thing; and finding out you've got to stop a mass-murder isn't a great way to start your day."

Gary just grumbled something.

"At least give her the chance to apologize, OK."

He paused for a second then a sigh "OK Meredith, I will."

"Hey, you two be careful as well, alright."

"We will, see ya later" and with that, he was out the door.

Marissa was in, but Gary just blew right past her without a word being spoken. She realized what it meant when he left that way and knew that whatever he had to deal with would be bad. She grabbed an extra cup of coffee and headed up to the loft to see if Meredith could fill her in on what was going on.

She could hear the reporter moving around in the loft, she so walked right in. "You in the mood for coffee?"

Meredith jumped a little when the blind woman walked right in, but she knew that Gary trusted her with his life. "Thanks Marissa, coffee sounds like a winner."

"I just heard Gary charge out of here, it must be bad."

"In more ways than one." She proceeded to tell Marissa about both the story and what Brigatti had said. "I know she didn't mean what she said; I just hope he gives her a chance to apologize."

"He will" Marissa answered, "I'll make sure he does."

Meredith looked surprised and a bit amused at the tone the elegant black woman had used. For just an instant she could see a bit of the iron that was under that sweet exterior.

"So Meredith, other than worrying, what does the day hold for you?"

"I was gonna stop by the _Sun-Times_ and catch up with some old friends; see what's changed, that kind of thing."

"Sounds like fun, shay hello to Morris for me if you see him."

"Absolutely"

With that Marissa walked back down to the office and just sat, not doing anything; she knew she wouldn't be any good until she knew Gary was safe.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was 7:50 when Brigatti finally showed up at the Dearborn Street El station. "Sorry Hobson, traffic"; which was partially true. But the guilt for what she had said had slowed her down as well.

Gary just waved the explanation off. "You take the paper, and remember the plan. Keep an eye on the headline, cause it'll probably change once or twice."

"You sure about this Hobson" Brigatti asked, waving the paper Gary had given her.

"Of course, I trust your judgment" and he did.

They walked in, trying to look casual and wondering who the nut job was, and where he was. All the screaming answered the second question. Brigatti eased over into the crowd by the wall on the left; sidling down towards the head of the tunnel. This allowed her to keep an eye on Hobson and the gunman. It also provided enough cover to let her call her precinct on her cell phone and detail the situation. She told the officers to come quiet and easy; she didn't want the guy spooked. Then Brigatti saw an opportunity. Very slowly she eased towards the main part of the station, trying to will the guy with the gun to stay cool and not notice her; and most definitely not shoot the man she might be in love with.

Gary just walked casually into the main part of the station. He approached the man cautiously with his hands in plain sight, but also with a bit of confidence. "You don't want to do this Walter."

The man jerked and pointed his gun at Gary. "Who the hell are you, how do you know my name, are you a cop" the man shrieked.

Very calmly, well aware of where the gun was pointed, said "my name is Gary, no I'm not a cop although I do know a few and I know you're frustrated. But you've got to know that this isn't the way to deal with it."

"What do you know about me?"

"I know you've taken the transit test seven times and haven't passed and believe me, I know what its like to have a dream that's so close, but you can never seem to quite reach it. I don't know how frustrated you are, but I know how frustrated it made me." While he was speaking, Gary had been slowly advancing towards Walter; and he, as if to maintain distance, had been backing up.

He didn't even realize he had been moving until he felt the muzzle of a gun at the back of his head. He became aware of another calm voice speaking to him. "Walter, my name is Detective Brigatti, please put the gun down and step away from it. If you don't, I'll be forced to shoot you."

Walter froze; he was being forced to think instead of just act and he wasn't sure what to do.

"Walter" Gary said "think about your wife and kid; do you want them to think of you as this crazy person who murdered innocent people or as the man they know you to be?"

"There are two endings to this Walter" said the voice behind him, "one good and one not so good. You can pull that trigger and get off about five rounds, maybe kill a couple of random people including Gary there, then I'll react by firing my gun and blowing most of your brain out your forehead. Or you can put down the gun. You'll probably go to jail, but maybe not; but you'll definitely live to see your wife and child again. Now, what's it gonna be?"

Walter thought for a moment, picturing his wife and son in his mind, then relaxed. Toni didn't, guys who did that simply had made a decision, she didn't yet know what that decision was. Walter slowly lowered the gun to the ground.

"Good deal, now hands on top of your head and back towards me. Gary, make sure his rifle doesn't go anywhere, but don't touch it. OK Walter, I'm gonna cuff you now, you understand?"

Walter nodded and Brigatti noticed that he was sobbing. She clicked the handcuffs, which sounded loud in that echoy station, and a though a switch had been thrown, the crowd that had been frozen, started cheering and applauding.

Just then the uniforms that she had called for arrived. Toni passed Walter off to one and had another take the rifle. "I need to take a statement or two, tell Armstrong I'll be at the precinct in about an hour." They just shrugged, the two doing what Brigatti had told them and the rest taking statements from the crowd.

Moving towards her, Gary noticed that the cheering of the crowd seemed to be making Brigatti blush, something he would have sworn was impossible to do in public. "Come on Hobson; let's get the hell out of here." Silently they headed back to McGinty's.

As soon as they had walked in the door, Marissa was there; "Gary are you OK, Meredith told me what was happening." Then turning to Toni said "and how are you Detective?"

Brigatti just froze for a second, and looking at Gary asked "how does she do that?"

Gary smiled down at her, the first real smile she had seen from him that day "you don't want to know, but you should get used to it. We're fine Marissa; everyone's OK including the guy with the gun."

"Thank God, I was so worried", again she turned to Toni "thanks for keeping him safe."

Brigatti didn't think she could feel any worse about what she had said this morning, but to be hit with Marissa's thanks and Hobson's smile just raised her level of guilt by a factor of ten.

"You're welcome, you both are. Now I hate to sound needy, but could I get some tea or something soothing real soon" Toni asked as she collapsed onto a stool.

Gary and Marissa both looked understanding; "shakes"?

Brigatti just nodded.

Together they crossed over to her and Gary poured her a cup of coffee with a generous helping of brandy in it. He turned and handed it to her. Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely get the cup to her mouth, and even then she came close to missing it. "Sorry" she said after the first swallow "I've always gotten the shakes bad, ever since I was a Marshall."

"No problem" Gary said "so long as you don't get them during."

She smiled up at him, her hands already noticeably steadier, "that won't ever happen, don't worry." She looked back down at her cup for a second and then met his eyes "Hobson, I'm sorry about my comment earlier. It was so far out of line, I can't even tell you how sorry I am. It wasn't nice and it wasn't fair. I understand if you don't want to be around someone that would think that of you, but for what it's worth, I am sorry." She sat there cringing, afraid of what he would say next.

Don't worry about it Brigatti, I could have been using you. You're a cop, you're gonna be suspicious about motives and stuff; I just wish you weren't so darned blunt."

"Any way I could make it up to you?" Toni literally could not believe what she was hearing. Nice guys like this didn't exist anymore, did they?

"You mean aside from keeping me from getting shot the way you just did?"

"Yeah, aside from that."

"Buy me dinner sometime this week, your choice of where, and we'll call it square."

"Damn, you're easy on me Hobson."

"All part of the charm; you need me to come down with you for a formal statement?"

"Yeah, but first we need to work out a story to keep Armstrong happy, his hackles go up whenever you're involved in anything."

"Let's get moving then, hanging out here won't make him happy either." As Gary got up Marissa said "Uhm Gary, could you place a bet today?"

Gary understood that it was going to pay a private investigator to look into Melanie's background. "Sure Marissa, not a problem."

Toni wasn't sure what was going on, but figured if it was something she needed to know, Hobson would spill the beans sooner or later. Putting down her coffee cup, hands steady as rocks; she stood up and said "come on Hobson, no time like the present."

They got up and headed for the door, already animatedly discussing their excuse.

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It took two minutes to remind Meredith how much she loved the _Sun-Times_. The smells the sounds the people; all totally different from The Post. In her heart she knew that the move had been necessary and it had brought her fame and notoriety, but she still felt it was the worst decision she had ever made. She walked into the foyer and all the guards still remembered her and waved her on through. She spent time with the different section heads, most of whom had been senior reporters when she had been there; talking about Hawkes and Scanlon and some of the others that weren't there any more. In every conversation she brought up the subject of Hobson casually, and she kept getting the same three responses; Molly Green, Miguel Diaz and Morris the archivist.

Meredith knew that she needed to talk to these three people, but work first. She had noticed an empty cubicle on her way to meet with the new associate editor, a man that had nurtured her career almost as much as Hawkes had. On her way back, she simply sat down and started dialing the number of one of her contacts.

"Hello"

"Mr. Donald Ellis?"

"Yes"

"Mr. Ellis this is Sandy Newman with the Chicago _Sun-Times_, I was wondering if you had a comment to make on the disappearance of Meredith Carson, after all you were one of her informants."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"She was a friend of mine and she sent me a letter a while back, saying that if she ever vanished to call this number because you would know what had happened. So, why did she disappear Mr. Ellis?"

"I don't know."

"But she tried to contact you several times in the last week and you never returned her call."

"I was told not too. These guys came around and said she was being investigated for treason. They suggested that it would be best if I broke off contact with her. Now you say she's vanished, Holy Shit."

"Indeed Mr. Ellis, did the gentlemen that persuaded you have names?"

"Anderson and Smith, their ID said they were with the Department of the Interior."

"Thank you Mr. Ellis, I will make note of that in my story."

"Please, be sure my name isn't anywhere in that story."

"Of course Mr. Ellis, I understand." Then she hung up the phone. Pay dirt on the first try; not bad. It was not by accident that she had called Don Ellis first. The guy had been a doctor until he got busted for using, now he was a janitor; but a very smart and observant janitor. She used the computers to check the DC crime sheets to see if any names jumped out at her on the morgue list, or if any of the John Doe descriptions rang bells; but no soap. Ah well, she had a very good idea who was on her now, and that was half the battle, she'd just have to trust Gary and Toni to take care of the other half.

She went to the basement and chatted with Morris for a bit, and passed on Marissa's greeting. Then she headed back to McGinty's hoping that Gary and Toni had had decent days.

Not long after Meredith left the _Sun-Times _building, an E-Mail showed up on a computer in an obscure office in DC. 'She's in Chicago' was all it said, but that was enough.


	6. Stories and Art

A/N: I just wanted to thank the people that have taken time to review my story. Your feedback is always appreciated. I got Winslow's first name from Jayne Leitch's great story 'Cimes against Criminals', so thank you Jayne. One of the main lines for this story came from the Episode 'Time'. My wife pointed out that Armstrong dressed and acted a lot like Fox Mulder. This got me to thinking, with his interaction with Gary, what would a conspiracy theory type of guy think about some of the stuff that went on around Hobson. So, just so you know where this idea came from. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing; I appreciate you time.

POE1911

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ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 6

Hobson knew about those bombs. He saved me, and a TV anchor and the _Sun-Times_; or so everyone believes. Let's face it, the guys we arrested couldn't light a firecracker with a flamethrower, let alone be smart enough to rig up the bombs. So, were they pawns run by someone else, were they rivals to be eliminated, or were they simply two innocent guys that got burned? In all honesty I've got to go with door number one. But who was this guy? In one, and only one statement, one of the bombers says that they were told what to do by a voice that only called, someone that they never met face to face. What's funny is after that one statement; this mysterious button pusher was never mentioned or even hinted at again. When directly questioned, both guys swore that no such man existed. Were they protecting someone, or were they scared of someone? I honestly think that Hobson set these two jokers up so that he could gain some favor with the media. Saving my butt was just a bit of a bonus. That's what makes him so tough to deal with, he's so well insulated and so well liked that people just can't seem to really see what he's doing. But I'm gonna make em see.

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Brigatti and Hobson arrived at the precinct about fifteen minutes after leaving McGinty's. In that time they had figured out how to deal with the inevitable 'how did you happen to be there' question that they knew Armstrong was going to use. It involved revealing a bit of their relationship, but hey, even detectives have lives outside the 'cop shop'. They walked right in and headed for Brigatti's office. Along the way, she was stopped several times to be congratulated and several of the officers even greeted Gary by name. Toni sat behind her desk and was totally professional. Asking all the questions that she should and filling out everything that was necessary. She was just about finished when Armstrong popped his head in.

"What're you suspected of this time Hobson?"

"Nothing Armstrong, I just helped Brigatti with that gunman at the El Station."

"Just the right place right time thing huh; for both of you."

"He was meeting me there for breakfast, and we just followed the screaming."

"Why the El station for breakfast."

"Well we've been thinking about opening McGinty's in the morning and I've heard that the counter guy at this place was top notch, so I wanted to check him out. Toni and I have gone out a time or two and I trust her judgment so I asked her to come along."

Armstrong was a bit taken aback, not by the story; for Hobson it was more coherent than usual, but by the revelation that Toni and Gary were seeing each other. Doing his best to maintain his poker face, he just said "I see" and left.

"Do you think he bought it?"

"Whether he did or not, he's gonna ream me about my choice in breakfast companions. Not to mention what that gossip monger Winslow is gonna say."

"Hey if Logan gives you any trouble, just ask him about the raccoon."

"What raccoon?"

"The one he shot while he was on a stake-out."

Brigatti just looked at him for a second, not believing what she had just heard. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, poor old Rocky didn't stand a chance."

Brigatti dissolved into laughter for a moment or two, then recovering herself said "thanks Hobson, I've been looking for something to shut that little weasels mouth for years, I owe you one."

"Don't mention it, and see you later?"

"Count on it."

With a smile and a nod, Gary got up and left the precinct. After all he still had a couple of errands to deal with.

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"You got a second Brigatti?"

"Sure Armstrong, what's on your mind?"

"You and Hobson, how long has that been going on?"

"We've had a few dates, nothing serious yet."

"Yet"

"We've hinted around at becoming a bit more serious, but right now it's just talk."

"You might want to hold off on that; seriously how much do you know about this guy."

"I know the really important stuff, what kind of person he is, and what he wants out of life, and his past; you know; the foundation of who he is."

"You sure about that?"

"As many times as he's saved your ass, you doubt him?"

"All I'm saying Toni, is go into this with your eyes wide open. Don't refuse to see stuff simply because you like the guy. And don't forget that polygraph test he took, 'deceptive nature' I believe was the words they used."

"I remember, but what are you talking about Paul?"

"I just think it's a bit funny, all the stuff he gets mixed up in. All the different cases where his name just pops up out of the blue. Spooky, I guess is the word; Hobson is spooky."

"Spooky or not, a girl could do a hell of a lot worse than Hobson, let me tell you."

"Hey, speaking of girls doing worse, nice catch on that teenager yesterday. I would have sworn it was suicide; but you saw right through it."

"Thanks, any leads on that, now that we know it wasn't voluntary."

"Yeah, it's a bad story. Rich girl at college gets cut off from daddy's money because of crappy grades, so she looks to 'supplement her income' by turnin tricks on the side. Her boyfriend thought she was two-timing him, and his ego couldn't stand it."

"Yuck, you gonna need anything from me to wrap it up?"

"Just your notes detailing what tipped you off."

"Actually it was Hobson that tipped me off."

"What! how the hell did he get a look at the crime scene photos?"

"I was looking at the case late and he brought dinner over. He just took a look and knew."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah, he looked at the pictures and notice that she didn't have anything to wash the pills down with."

"Like I said, spooky. Just make sure you turn in a full report on it OK."

"Don't I always?"

"Yeah you do Toni, and Brigatti" she turned to look at her partner "keep your eyes open, promise."

"I will Paul, later."

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Gary was running yet again. At times he thought he should try the Chicago Marathon, just to see how far he could go; but he realized that he'd never be able to because of the paper.

A lady of about seventy had lost control of her car when she swerved to miss a dog. There was nothing he could have done about the accident, but when he tried to tell her to stay in the car because of the wires, she kept trying to get out. It took him a minute or two to realize that she couldn't really understand what he was saying; he guessed she was a little deaf. It was almost amusing, she'd try to get out one door, he'd dart in and slam it shut while avoiding the wires and then she'd go to try another door. So he had to race around the car to close that door as well. Then it would start all over again. It was like she refused to learn that she was supposed to stay in the car. Gary had been running around the car, trying to keep her alive for ten minutes when the fire department finally showed up. Breathing a sigh of relief, because the lights and sirens seem to have scared the old lady into staying put; Gary glanced at his watch and realized he had to hustle to prevent the scaffolding from collapsing.

"I'm telling you it's gonna collapse!"

"Buddy, why don't you go bother someone else, I've got this wall to finish."

"Listen mack, if you don't get off that scaffold, you're not gonna be finishing anything except your life; it's gonna collapse and you're gonna die. Now get off the dang thing."

"Who the hell are you, the scaffold police, just buzz off."

"No, I'm not the scaffold police, but I know a bad job when I see it."

Now the painter looked angry; "You think you could do a better job Picasso?"

"No, you bone-head; I was talking about the joint work on this" waving at the scaffold. But Gary was talking to air because the painter had disappeared inside the building. But from the sounds Gary could hear, the man was coming down to discuss his short career as an art critic.

Just as the door opened to reveal the irate painter, Gary heard a groan followed by the shriek of metal as the platform with all the paint on it let go. With a yell, Gary knocked the man back into the building and was trying to close the door when the paint hit the pavement.

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Brigatti walked into McGinty's at about 4:30. She waved at Crumb, but headed over to see Marissa. She was sitting at Gary's table, talking to someone with their back to Toni. When she was half way there she realized she recognized the hair, Marissa was talking to Meredith. They were laughing and chatting with one of those fried onion things on the table between them.

"Am I one too many" she asked.

"Not at all Detective, Marissa answered "please sit down."

"Thanks; so after the worry, how was the rest of your day?"

"Not bad, a little problem with one of our suppliers. The jerk figures that either because I'm a woman or because I'm blind, I can't tell good beef from bad. He's trying to pass off dog food as grade A. We were getting pretty loud too, then Crumb shows up and suddenly the guy's all sweetness and light. The schmuck didn't apologize though. I need to talk to Gary about switching butchers. How about you Toni?"

"Not bad, putting up with a lot of damn reporters, including your friend Molly Green." She gave Meredith a hard glare.

"Well what do you expect; you're a hero, at least for now."

"Yeah well, she kept asking about Hobson, I just passed him off as an anonymous do-gooder bystander. I don't think she was buying."

"No, Molly wont, she and Miguel Diaz are really interested in Gary, not as bad as Scanlon was, but interested."

"You think they'd hurt him" Marissa asked.

"No, I think that mostly they're just curious."

"So other than stopping mass murder; anything interesting today detective?"

"One case that Hobson helped me with, but not directly". She proceeded to tell the other two about the murdered girl. "Bye the way, Meredith, you'll probably be getting a call from a detective Armstrong about that mugging that you witnessed."

"Really, why?"

"Because Armstrong really has an obsession with Hobson, and he dissects anything he's involved in."

"Does Gary know that?"

"He knows Armstrong is interested, but I don't know if he realizes how far Armstrong is taking this. Don't worry" she said to the other two women "I'll keep an eye on him. That's my job now, isn't it?"

"Actually, I suppose it's all our jobs, making sure Gary is free to do what he needs to do."

"Very true Marissa, hmmmm, maybe we need t-shirts or something 'Hobson's Angels'; how does that grab you."

All three women were silent for a second and then all dissolved into laughter.

In the back of her mind Brigatti was reveling in how good it felt to just laugh and be with friends, something she hadn't enjoyed for quite some time. Laugh now, analyze later.

After a moment they realized that they were the only ones making noise in the whole bar. They didn't think that they had been that loud or unusual, so they looked up to see what had captured everyone's attention. Toni and Meredith saw everyone looking at the front door, and Marissa caught the strong smell of paint suddenly. At first Brigatti thought it was some performance artist or someone like that. It was obviously a person, but he was covered in paint. And not just a single color; no, this guy was tricked out like a LSD hallucination. Meredith was the first one to figure out who it was.

"Gary, what the hell happened to you?"

"What's going on" Marissa asked.

"Hobson's covered in psychedelic paint" Brigatti answered. Actually she had to raise her voice because once the shock wore off the entire bar erupted with laughter.

Meredith was closest, so he handed her an envelope and told her "this is for Marissa, tell her to let me know if it's not enough".

Gary headed up to the loft to wash off the paint and Marissa was going to find one of the bus-boys to make sure the paint was cleaned from both the door and the floor. Meredith walked back over to Brigatti, looking at the envelope in her hand. "What do you suppose this is?"

"Money, Marissa asked him to make a bet this morning, I don't know why though."

"He said to have her tell him if it wasn't enough."

"If what isn't enough" Marissa asked, coming back to the table.

"This" Meredith said, handing over the envelope.

Marissa opened it, feeling the sheaf of bills, then she handed it back to Meredith, "how much is there?"

Meredith's eyes got wide "oh, about ten grand, give or take a couple of bucks."

Marissa got a strange little smile on her face "you don't do anything by halves, do you Gary" she murmured.

"Brigatti looked a bit alarmed "is this what you meant when you said you wanted Hobson to place a bet this morning, ten grand?"

"Sort of, I just didn't know he'd break the bank like this."

"So what do you need it for, crooked inspector or something like that?"

"No Toni, nothing like that" she swiveled her head listening to see who was nearby, "lets go up to the loft, I'll fill you in there and then we can find out what happened to Gary."

The three ladies walked over to the stairs to the loft when one of the waitresses asked "do you need anything up there Ms. Clark?"

"No thank you Melanie, we're just going to make sure Mr. Hobson is OK."

"OK then, but just ask if you need anything; and don't tell him I said this, but when Mr. Hobson walked in the door, I thought it was about the funniest thing I've ever seen."

"Yeah, that's Hobson, always making an entrance" Brigatti quipped.

The other three women joined her laughter, then they proceeded upstairs while Melanie went back to work.

They went into the loft, they could hear the shower running in the background; "OK Marissa, what's the money for" Meredith asked.

"It's to hire a private investigator to see what Melanie's real story is."

"You mean the waitress we just talked to?"

"Yes her, I checked her application and some of the information is bogus, but it didn't feel like she was hiding something so much as she was running from something. Anyway, I hired her, she's a great waitress; but I want to find out the truth about her. Money for a PI isn't in the budget, so I asked Gary to place a bet to finance it."

"You should have just asked, Meredith and I could have done some checking for you, saved you some money."

"Thanks, both of you, feel free to check her out, but I'm still going to hire someone, just for my piece of mind."

"Suit yourself; hey did Crumb recommend someone good?"

"I haven't mentioned it to him because I'm afraid he'll feel slighted because I didn't ask him."

"Come on Marissa, you know Crumb's not like that, ask him; he'll tell you who's worth hiring and who's a waste of your money."

"You think he wouldn't mind?"

"I'm sure of it."

"Alright then, I'll ask Crumb. Now, tell me what Gary looked like when he came through the door."

Meredith, who had gotten a better look than Toni described his appearance to both the other women. They then speculated on what would have caused such a thing to happen, they laughed a lot, with their ideas and scenarios getting sillier and sillier as the conversation ran on.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, Gary was confronted by all three women wondering what the story was. He reluctantly proceeded to tell them about the stubborn painter and trying to close the door in time. It didn't help that they actually giggled at most of the story, which dragged it out a lot longer than he wanted to spend on it. When he finally finished, and the three friends straightened themselves out, he asked Marissa if that was enough for the PI.

"Of course Gary, one quarter of this would have been more than enough."

"So, what are you gonna do with the extra?"

"I'll just put what's left over into the offering plate at church, or buy myself a Porsche, I haven't decided yet."

Everyone laughed at both her dry delivery, and the nonplussed expression on Gary's face. He hadn't seen Marissa this relaxed around people in a long time.

The conversation was winding down a bit when Toni turned to Meredith "not to put a damper on the mood, but I struck out with the names you gave me."

"That's OK, cause I didn't."

"Really, so who's trying to kill you?"

"The Government, big surprise there, huh."

"You mean the US Government wants you dead. That's not real reassuring."

"Well, I've been working on a story about the huge number of 'Indian Casino's' that have been popping up. You'd think that with all this revenue the reservations would be doing better, but they're not. I was looking at how these things get approved, and I believe that I found a connection inside the Department of the Interior."

"Who're they, and why are they so important?"

"Well among other things, they contain the 'Bureau of Indian Affairs'; they're the ones who determine if a tribe is legitimate and what land rights they're entitled to. So if they say you're an Indian Tribe, then you can apply for a casino license. Needless to say there's big money in these things, so the Mob has gone recruiting, finding dubious 'Tribes' and getting them to apply for licenses. The weak link in the chain is the DI people, they're greedy and stupid, and don't cover their tracks very well. In about two weeks I was gonna go to press with my story. That would serve to cut about 750 million dollars from what the Mob expected to bring in this year alone, so I can see where they'd be a bit put out. My snitch said that a couple of DI employees warned him to stay away from me, so it all fits. The Mob pressures them, and they work to shut me up."

"So, if the Feds don't get ya, then the Mob comes gunning for your butt; you need to pick your enemies better" Brigatti observed.

"If the story came out, would that get the heat off of you" Marissa asked.

"Eventually yeah, but it'd be like living in a shooting gallery till then."

"So the choices are do nothing and hope they don't find you for the rest of your life, or go to press and go back to your own life, if you survive that long."

"Yeah Toni, those are my choices."

"Sounds like a no brainer to me" Gary said "no one can hide forever."

"True, it's just that I'm not sure if I'm brave enough to take that chances that I'll have to take."

"You are, and we'll help; anything we can do, you just say the word."

Meredith was near to tears, she had forgotten what having friends was like, and the realization that every word that was said was meant, just brought home how empty her life had been these past few years.

"Thank you all, I can't believe you all would risk that much for someone you barely know."

"We wouldn't" said Brigatti "but we'd risk a hell of a lot more than this for a friend."


	7. Conflict and Resolution

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 7

I've been on the receiving end of what Hobson can do even when he's telling the complete truth. He stood in front of the judge and told the truth, but how he said what he did, and the points he emphasized put me in the worst possible light. Part of me wonders if he did it intentionally. But what was really strange about the whole thing was that he ended up having the judge killed by the suspect. I know that Hobson had confronted the judge about something, but I don't know what. But I do know that Judge Roemick was killed and Hobson was right there, orchestrating the whole thing. This is where dealing with Hobson becomes so difficult. Was he after me, the judge or the suspect; or did he use the situation to burn us all. I'm gonna find out one day.

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When Gary opened his eyes, the first thing he realized was that it was late. He had been getting up at 6:30 every day for the last 6 years, why not today. The second thing he realized was that he was smelling coffee, and that was not a common thing to smell when he hadn't been awake to make it. The third and last was the realization that Cat was sprawled across his mid-section, purring away like an engine. Raising his head slightly; so as not to disturb Cat, he saw Meredith sitting in his usual chair and reading the paper. He looked at her and raised his eyebrow in silent inquiry.

"Morning sleepy, nothing until twelve thirty this afternoon, so you actually get to help your partner today."

Gary just lay back and enjoyed the novelty of the situation. "So what are you up to today?"

"I'm at the _Sun-Times_ again today. I'm gonna look up some stuff and see if I can't get a story published; either here or in DC."

"Don't you think that's a bit risky, I mean anyone looking for you is gonna think to check the _Sun-Times_?"

"Maybe, but I'm hoping that I've bought myself a bit of time with the way I came out here. I didn't leave much of a trail."

"Well, as long as you don't get yourself hurt, I'm not gonna complain. So, you're gonna try and get the story out there so hopefully the heat on you will be turned down?"

"That's the plan."

Yawning and stretching, and dislodging Cat from his perch, Gary got up off the couch, well if I've got all this time, I think I'll catch a shower. You heading on soon?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna finish my coffee and hit the road."

Gary leaned out the bathroom door "hey Meredith, thanks for the coffee, and be careful today, promise?"

"Yeah, I promise, now get clean."

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Brigatti's morning had been awful. She had shown up early in order to check out the waitress for Marissa; but had immediately Armstrong had dragged her into his office. Unfortunately it wasn't just Armstrong; her captain was there as well. "So Toni, using outside consultants now on murder investigations?"

"If I hadn't, it would have been written off as a suicide; like some people were insisting" Toni fired back, knowing that her captain was one of the people pushing for it to be called a suicide. Brigatti had always been about as diplomatic as a thrown mallet; and at the moment she was beyond caring that her captain's face was crimson.

"Listen Brigatti, you had someone outside the department look at crime scene evidence, you know what the kid's lawyer is gonna do with that."

"Bullshit, a guy I'm seeing brought me dinner and pointed something out; it wasn't planned and he didn't touch any of the evidence or compromise the situation in any way."

"That's the other thing; I'm not comfortable with you seeing someone that's as shady as Hobson seems to be."

For an instant Brigatti's eyes flicked from her captain to Armstrong, who didn't even have the balls to meet her gaze. "You trying to tell me what to do with my personal life, my personal time?"

"Of course not."

"Is my work deficient in any way?"

"Uhm, well . . . . . no, not really."

"Good, because if you were trying to tell me who I could and couldn't see I'd be on that phone in a heartbeat, and I doubt you'd like the outcome of that call. Now, I'll try to be sure that unauthorized people do not get involved in investigations in the future. Unless you have anything else to say, I've got three other cases pending and I need to do my job." She turned and fired out of the office and headed for a free terminal, preferably one far away from Armstrong. Several of the officers had seen her like this before, and were smart enough to get out of her way. Winslow thought about trying to heal the breach, but took one look at Toni's face and decided that discretion was truly the better part of valor, and chose to wait.

Brigatti was so upset that she had to try three times to enter the waitresses name into the missing person database. Swearing at herself for her klutziness and at Armstrong for just being, she finally got it right and then eased back in the chair and took a deep breath. She had known that Armstrong was a bit obsessed about Hobson, but she hadn't realized until now just how deep it truly ran. While she was waiting, she considered her options; she could move to another precinct or some other area, she knew of an opening in Vice at the moment, she could simply request a new partner, or she could try to clear the air, or at least reach a truce with Armstrong. She was trying to decide her course of action, when Armstrong found her.

"Hey Toni, I'm just trying to watch out for my partner."

"Really Paul, cause it felt like you were stabbing me in the back and twisting it pretty good."

"Come on Toni, you can't tell me that as much stuff as Hobson's involved in, you seeing him won't create a conflict of interest."

"Does the captain know about your brother in laws' record?"

"What?"

"Dealing wasn't it, arrested twice; did you consider that possible conflict when you were dating your wife? Have you made it known to the captain whenever you get involved in a drug case?"

"That's not relevant."

"But me dating a guy that's never been convicted of anything is?"

"I know that there's something going on Toni, you know there is too, you're too good a cop to not know it. I just don't want to see your career wrecked over this guy, sincerely."

"I appreciate that Paul, but I'm a big girl now, and I'm not blind, if Hobson's up to anything, I'll see it. Right now however, I really do have some work to do, and so do you, so if you will excuse me" and she turned her back on him. Armstrong debated on saying more but decided that now was not the time.

Her database search had produced several possibilities; she downloaded these files so she could check a bit deeper and hoped that the others were having a better day.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meredith was going through the same argument for the third time. "No I won't be writing the piece, I will simply be the source of the information, so there's no conflict with the Post."

"But your name will be included in the article; the Post could use that as a basis for a suit."

Meredith tried not to look disgusted with the man, he was obviously an attorney; but her time in DC had made her intolerant of the 'cover your ass at all cost' mentality that too many lawyers had. "Listen up dipshit, I'm not serving as the author, I will not appear on the by-line; therefore the paper's liability is zero; and if you don't know that then you're dumber than you look."

The editor looked at the lawyer, "if they pushed it, would they win?"

"Probably not" the lawyer conceded.

Turning to Meredith he said "then let's do this. Who do you want to write this Meredith?"

"Molly Green" she answered "I like her style and she's got guts."

"OK then, call up Molly and get cracking."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary was running again, or maybe still would be a better word. Regardless, his first save had taken a bit too long; the guy just would not believe that there was something wrong with his car, and refused to look at the engine. Instead he just smirked and revved it whenever Gary was trying to tell him what would go wrong. It had worked out in the end, the guy revved his engine higher than before, and the oil line let go with an impressive bang. Originally that was going to happen on the Dan Ryan in the middle of rush hour and cause four deaths, including the smirking idiot in front of him. Gary just gave the moron a little 'I told you so' grin and headed on. Now he was trying to find a kid on a skateboard. A kid who had played hooky and gotten into his parents booze. Now he was skating around Oak Park drunk off his gourd and would soon decide to slalom down the middle of Madison Street. Gary had gotten off the El and gone to the place where the kid was supposed to be hit. But there was no kid, at least not yet. He was standing there, trying to figure out which direction the kid would be coming from, when he saw a skateboarder approaching. There were a couple of problems, though. One the paper had said that the victims name was Alex, Gary now realized that it was short for Alexandra. Two, the paper had neglected to mention that Alex was only wearing underwear, and only the bottoms at that. Oh boy he thought to himself, this was gonna be awkward. He took his leather jacket off and dashed out into traffic, wrapped the coat around the girl while plucking her off her board and sprinted for the far side of the street. She was safe at least, but now he had to deal with a drunken, naked teenager who was pissed off that her board had been crushed by a semi.

"I woulda missed it" she blearily maintained.

"No, you wouldn't have, if you had still been on your board you'd be a mushy spot in the road right now."

She gazed at him for a second, her eyes having difficulty focusing "who the hell are you anyway".

"My name is Gary, and I'm with the 'Chicago Skateboard Safety Council', so you're in big trouble missy. You should be thankful that only your board got mashed, I could have banned you from every skate-park in Illinois if I wanted to." While he had been talking to the girl he had also been removing his sweater. No tags no ID. "Here, put this on" he said, handing her the sweater.

She nonchalantly removed the jacket and put his sweater on; Gary averted his eyes at the last second and prayed that no-one would decide to ask what was going on. She was an average sized girl, but the sweater still came to almost her knees. Gary put his jacket back on and flagged down a cab. Checking the paper, he gave the driver the girl's address and enough money to get her there.

"If I hear about you being on a board in the next month, I'll have you banned from the streets, you understand?"

The girl gave a bit of woozy acknowledgement and proceeded to pass out in the cab.

'Dangit, that was my favorite sweater' Gary thought as the cab rolled away. He checked the paper again, to make sure everything was OK. It was but as he was putting the paper away, a new article caught his eye. "Reporter Killed in Drive by Shooting"; it just said a female reported would be killed and another one injured, but that it would happen right in front of the _Sun-Times_. He checked the time, it was gonna be close.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Brigatti's day had gotten a lot better. Forensics data had come back with some pretty damning evidence against a suspect in one of her cases. Now it was time to sweat the truth out of the weasel and close the case. She had also narrowed the waitresses ID down to two probables; Andrea Miller of Des Moines, Iowa or Teressa Walters of Memphis, Tennessee. Toni couldn't remember if the girl had an accent or not, but she would just ask Marissa. There was no way that the blind woman could miss an accent, even if it was trying to be covered. Brigatti looked up; her scumbag of a suspect was being walked in right now. Idly she wondered to herself why smart people thought it would be easy to get away with killing someone. Well, whatever the reason, this smart guy had screwed up and now it was time for one of the best parts of her job; getting to the truth.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was weird for Meredith. She had never been on this side of an article, where she was the source, not the writer. She had known Molly Green before she had headed out to DC and since then had kept track of her work. After a couple of minutes with her, Meredith knew that she had made the right choice wanting Molly to tell the story. Molly was thorough, professional, and didn't hesitate to ask difficult questions. Meredith laid the whole thing out; the Mob recruiters, the corruption at the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) and the funneling of money away from the tribes. Molly wanted to check a couple of things out for herself (a good reporter never fully trusts any source) and she wanted to add an angle on the reservation conditions for tribes that did have casinos.

"So, it won't be out today, but no problem getting it into tomorrow's paper; assuming everything checks out. Hey, if I need to get hold of you, where are you staying?"

"A place called McGinty's, you know it?"

"You're staying with Hobson?"

"You know him" Meredith asked, acting a little flustered. Of course she knew that Molly knew who Gary was, but she didn't want to let that on.

"We've run into each other on occasion. He helped me with a story about a guy on death row. Great story, turns out the guy was innocent, but it was spooky working with Hobson. Every now and then he'd just jump, like he'd been shot, and start off in a totally different direction. Like he knew what was gonna happen. Anyway, it's like I said, Hobson's spooky."

"You think he's psychic or something like that."

"I really don't know I'd like to think I don't believe in that kind of thing, but just being around him for a bit can really make you think about it. Didn't you two date for a while?"

"Yeah, then the Post called, and it was onward and upward."

"You miss Chicago?"

"I miss the Cubs, the pizza and a few of the people, otherwise a place is a place" Meredith lied.

"Speaking of pizza, you wanna catch a late lunch?"

"Sounds like a winner, but one condition, no shop talk."

"Absolutely, hey let me make two calls and I'll be right there."

"I'll be in the lobby."

"OK, see ya in a sec."

Meredith wandered down to the lobby, wondering if Molly had picked up on her lie. She missed Chicago so much that it hurt sometimes. But she couldn't figure out a way to keep her career and be anywhere near Gary Hobson for any length of time. She was chatting with the guards when Molly showed up, not five minutes later. They headed out onto Orleans and turned left, towards a place called Lenny's that Molly swore had the best pizza in the city. They were chatting about how the Cubs and Sox both looked better than usual when Meredith became aware of two sounds, the sound of running feet and the sound of screeching tires. She had just begun to register what these sounds meant when she was tackled from behind. At the same moment gunfire erupted from the street. Meredith immediately scrambled to the curb in order to put an Oldsmobile between her and the shooters. She turned back to see if Molly was hit or anything, but what she saw was Gary dragging Molly Green over to the same car. The gunshots stopped as quickly as they had started and Meredith once more heard the sound of shrieking tires. She looked up too late to get a good make on the car, but could see that it was dark blue and had government plates. Shaking a bit from the adrenalin rush, she looked over at Molly and asked "would you consider that confirmation?"

Molly just nodded her head; she didn't seem to be up to talking at the moment.

Meredith looked over at the man who had saved her life again "thanks Gary, perfect timing as usual."

"Your welcome" he looked at the two women, "you both OK"?

Molly looked up and finally registered Hobson's presence. "Thanks Hobson, I owe you one."

"No problem; tell you what, get your food critic to add a star to McGinty's rating and we'll call it square."

Molly Green just laughed, but as the realization of what had happened and the timing of her rescue she looked over at Meredith "like I said, spooky".

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Needless to say, there was police involvement. Gary was less than thrilled when Armstrong showed up to try and figure out what had happened. Of course he was leaving the questioning of the two reporters to Winslow and was grilling Hobson himself.

"So, what's going on Hobson?"

"I was just coming to see Meredith, the guard told me that she and Molly had just left, I went out after them and saw the car; specifically I saw the windows were a bit open and there were guns sticking out. I knocked the two ladies down and we hid behind that green Oldsmobile over there. The car drove off and you guys showed up."

"How did you know this is where she'd be?"

"She told me this morning."

"How did she see you this morning?"

"She's staying at my place; we're old friends so when she showed up I offered her a place to stay."

"So why is she in Chicago?"

"I guess she needed a break."

"Come on Hobson, she's a Pulitzer Prize winning reporter, she could afford a month on the Riviera, why Chicago, why you?"

"I guess you'll have to ask her, I'm just glad she's here. I haven't seen her for five years so it's been fun catching up."

"Any idea as to who would want her dead?"

"No, but she's a reporter from DC, I imagine that a lot of people would like a shot at her."

Paul looked over to see Meredith reading Winslow the riot act and figured that Hobson was 100 right about that. "Anything you noticed about the car?"

"Dark blue sedan, government plates, at least three guys, I couldn't tell you anything about them; oh, and the windows were tinted, even the windshield."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, it struck me as weird; I didn't think it was legal to do that."

"It isn't, that's why the government plates don't make any sense, unless they're stolen."

"Sorry Armstrong, don't know what else to tell you."

"Not much else to say Hobson, if you think of anything; well you know the drill."

"You'll be the first person I call."

"Be sure about that."

"Later Armstrong."

Paul just nodded and walked over to Winslow to try and rescue him from the two women. He managed to pry the younger detective away, and Meredith and Molly headed over to Gary. "You two still hungry?"

"What?"

"The guard said something about you two catching a late lunch, I'll buy."

They just smiled in thanks and the three of them headed off to Lenny's.


	8. Revelations and Sanctuary

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 8

I remember the first time I saw Hobson. He was trapped in this carpet warehouse that had collapsed. At the time, I was intrigued by his friends, how they cared so deeply about him. It was only after his rather miraculous rescue that I started to wonder. Why was he there in the first place? Was he trying to cause something and screwed up or was he the victim of a rival? Eventually I started digging into the history of that building. Originally it was owned by Frank Nitti, he was Al Capone's number one hitter. At one time that particular building was where the bodies were stashed before they could be disposed. Since then the ownership of the building has been shrouded in mystery. No one is really clear on who owns it or what it is used for. The only clear bit of evidence I could find was a lease signed by a typesetter for the _Sun-Times_ named Lucius Snow. Now according to the archivist at the _Sun-Times_, this guy left stuff for Hobson to be delivered after his death. A look at Snow's career turns up as many holes as Hobson's. The guy was in trouble with the law for a bunch of years, then all the sudden, he never has a problem again. Now this Snow was good friends with a cop named Mike Killebrew. Now Killebrew lost it for a bit, until he was reclaimed by Hobson. Killebrew was a good friend of Crumb who is Hobson's friend and bartender. Did Killebrew tell Hobson where the holes were in the department? Did he make an internal network known to Hobson, or did he make sure that Hobson got a free pass and now Crumb is now some sort of emissary between Hobson and the police. Was this the passing on some kind of legacy between two men, some sort of criminal network that was bequeathed from one generation to another? Did Hobson take over Snow's network, was he related to Snow; did they have a connection? If so, what was it? Once I find that, I'll know how Hobson does what he does and why.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was a slow night at McGinty's. It was one of those rare nights when every team seemed to be either traveling or resting, so there were no games to watch, unless you counted Australian Rules Football (which was nearly impossible to understand, but suitably violent). Gary was shooting a rack of nine ball with Meredith and Marissa was behind the bar chatting with Crumb when Brigatti finally walked in. She had to admit, she was a bit jealous when she walked in, but the fact that Hobson immediately stopped his game and came over to hug her made it a lot less. She started to speak, but found that he was kissing her, not that she minded but it did make conversation a little bit difficult. For the next minute or so the rest of the world ceased to exist for Toni as she focused her whole being on the man holding her, the man she was enthusiastically kissing back.

"So" she said once she had caught her breath "how was your day Hobson?"

"Not bad Toni, just happy to see you."

"Yeah, I figured that what with the vapor lock you just applied and in front of everyone too." She wanted to sound upset, but the public display did a world of good for her ego.

"Sorry, I'll try to contain myself in the future." He had caught the fact that she wasn't really upset from her tone, and though he was doing his best to sound contrite, he couldn't help but curl his lip up in the ghost of a smile.

"Yeah, you better watch it Hobson, or I'm libel to bust you one" she threatened, but without meaning it at all. "Listen, I've got some information for Marissa about the whole waitress thing."

"Good and we've got some things that you need to know too."

"So where do you want to hold the troop meeting?"

"My table, I'll send Marissa over and be there as soon as I finish wiping the table up with Meredith."

"OK, but you gotta watch that competitive streak of yours Hobson, you'll get an ulcer."

He laughed and swung by the bar to drop a word with Marissa, then headed back to the pool table, still laughing. Toni was thinking that she loved the sound of his laugh as she made her way to Gary's table. She was still smiling to herself when Marissa sat down across from her.

"So, do you have some news for me Detective?"

"Yeah, I do, but call me Toni or Brigatti or something, Detective just sounds too formal."

"OK Toni, what have you found?"

"First of all, can you tell me if the girl has an accent; Southern, Midwest, whatever?"

"Actually yes I can; she has a distinct southern accent, although she works hard to hide it."

"Alright then, you waitresses real name is Teressa Walters of Memphis Tennessee. She's seventeen, at least for a couple more months, and has been living with her dad for the last year. Her parents divorced when she was a lot younger and she stayed with her mom. Her mom died recently and she had to move in with her dad. My source tells me that she wasn't too happy about that."

"Do you know why?"

"Not really, there was a bit of speculation but nothing concrete."

"Speculation about what?"

"Sexual abuse, not uncommon in divorce cases. Wife swears it's going on, husband denies it; the social worker didn't find anything, of course that doesn't mean it didn't go on."

"Is there anything that we have to do, I mean from a legal standpoint?"

"Well, I do know that there is a runaway report on the girl, but you really should talk to that fiancé of yours and see what the dos and don'ts are."

"Good idea and I should have already done that. So other than tracking down our waitress, what went on in your day?"

"Closed another case today. A husband rigged the brakes on his wife's car. She dies in the wreck and he collects on the insurance and covers his gambling debts so the loan sharks don't break his legs. Anyway, he slipped up and left prints on the lines and he used acid to eat away at the lines so the holes were too clean. When a line lets go the holes are ragged, so that was our first tip off. So the forensics nailed the bastard, and then when I hit him with the evidence he just breaks down. I love that part of my job; burning scum like him. Anything new and different in your life?"

"Not really, just keeping things running around here. You don't really want to hear about what goes on in my world."

"Why not, to me, hell to most of us; you are the island of serenity in an ocean of chaos. Seriously Marissa, knowing that there are good and decent people like you in the world makes my job that much better, because I can put a name and a face to the people I'm protecting. So let's hear about your day."

Marissa was talking about changes to the menu when Gary and Meredith finally made their way over.

"I won fair and square." Meredith loudly maintained.

"You whacked my arm when I was shooting."

"It was an accident, I didn't notice your arm sticking out until it was too late."

"Uh-huh"

Toni was again a little jealous because of their laughter and playful banter, but Gary immediately sat next to her, and kissed her on the cheek. "It looks like you had a good day."

"I did, I've already filled in Marissa about the waitress, she can tell you about it later, and I closed another case, so I've got a touch more free time." She looked over at Meredith "so you got shot at today?"

"Yeah, I'd say it's a good bet that it wasn't random either."

Brigatti just snorted at the understatement "so who was it?"

Meredith proceeded to tell about the shooting from her point of view and debating whether it was the mob or the government. "My money's on the Mob, I mean no one is stupid enough to try something like this in their own car. By the way, do you all have protection on Molly Green?"

"Come on Meredith, you're a reporter, you know how stupid people can be. As for Molly officially we don't but yeah protection's there. Believe it or not Winslow was a bit smitten with Miss Green so he's playing watchdog tonight and he pulled a few strings to get some black and whites driving through the neighborhood on a regular basis. So she's pretty well protected, or at least as well as we can do without a lot of presence."

"Winslow" Gary asked.

"Yeah Winslow, poor sense of humor aside, he's a good cop; the gossiping little weasel."

"If you think he's good enough, then OK."

"So Gary" Meredith asked, leaning forward with a smile "what kind of saves did you have besides me?"

"Uhmm, just a kid on a skateboard, she was gonna be hit by a truck."

"Why, was the truck gonna loose control or something?"

"Not really, you see; she was in the street, right in the middle of the street."

"In the middle of the street, why was she there" Marissa asked. "And what was she doing there in the middle of the day, didn't she have school?"

"Well she kinda played hooky and was just a bit drunk, and just a bit naked."

"WHAT?"

So Gary gave the whole story about Alex the drunken, naked skateboarder. His companions had trouble hearing the whole thing because he kept getting interrupted by their loud laughter. Eventually he finished up, turning red in embarrassment the entire time.

The game on the big screen was over everyone supposed, not knowing the rules and all, and the crowd starting to thin out when the four of them decided to call it a night. Marissa went back to help Abby with the books and Meredith went to talk to Crumb as Gary escorted Toni to the door. "See ya tomorrow Brigatti." He leaned in for a kiss. Right before he got to her lips, she stopped him with her finger.

"I want you to think about something Hobson."

"Sure Toni, what?"

"Do you love me?"

He thought for a second and closed his eyes 'did he love her'. He pictured her in his mind, smiling and laughing with him, and a warm glow suffused his being. He knew his answer, and as he opened his eyes he could see that Toni knew it as well, without him having to speak a word. She leaned forward and up, and pressed her lips to his in a very long and satisfying kiss.

"Me too" was all she said as she walked out the door. He stood there a moment with a bemused look on his face, as though someone had slipped him some narcotic, then he shook himself to his senses and went up to the loft.

When he got there, the first thing he noticed was Meredith, staring out the window with tears streaming down her face.

Snapping completely out of his romantic reverie he crossed over to her and asked "what's wrong Meredith"?

"I can't do this anymore Gary."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that it's not killing me seeing you with someone else."

"What do you mean, I thought you liked Toni."

"I do, I like Toni and Marissa, but I still love you, and I haven't stopped loving you in the last five years. I thought that if I stayed away it would fade, I'd move on with my life, but I'm stuck in the same rut that I was when I got on that train to DC. I'm in love with you Gary Hobson and you are the one person I can't have. I know you care about me, you wouldn't have done everything you have if you didn't, but you can't love me the way I love you, and it's eating me alive." Abruptly she stood, and almost tripped over Gary "I've got to get out of here." She moved to go past him, but he stopped her.

"I'm sorry Meredith; I didn't realize how uncomfortable you were. Listen, get some sleep and we'll look for somewhere else for you to stay tomorrow. OK?"

"Where were you thinking?"

"Either with Crumb or Brigatti, maybe Marissa or Molly, but somewhere safe."

"No, I don't want to put them in any danger."

"Come on Meredith, you think I'd let anything happen to the people I care about, that includes you by the way."

She looks a little abashed, "I know you wouldn't Gary, I'm just dealing with a lot here."

Carefully he took her into his arms "I know you are, and I know it'll work out; and I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I wish I could love you the way you love me, that I could love you the way you deserve to be loved; but I can't, and I'm sorry for that". He tightened his embrace and for a sweet eternity he held her and thought about 'what if', but he didn't let his thoughts stray for very long, and he broke the hug and looked at her. "I know it's stupid to ask if you're all right, but do you think you will be?"

Meredith looked into his lovely green eyes and said "yeah, I think I will be". She closed her eyes and prayed that she wasn't just fooling herself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary woke up from a dream where he was smothering to discover Cat sitting across his throat. He jerked upright, spitting fur out of his mouth as Cat went flying off him with a rather annoyed expression. Before Gary could say anything Cat made a low, rumbling growl while staring straight at Gary. This unusual behavior stopped Gary and made him think, when had Cat acted like this before. The quick answer was 'when Gary had been in trouble'. He sat still, all his concentration focused on his hearing; 'there' a noise where it shouldn't be. Someone was trying to jimmy the back door. Realizing that it was probably the same group that had already tried to kill Meredith twice, Gary decided that running, while not the bravest option, was definitely the smartest option. Quietly he crept over to the bed and woke Meredith. Fortunately he was smart enough to have a hand lightly over her mouth so the guys breaking in didn't hear her yell. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, telling her what was going on and what they would have to do to get away. Finally the panic left her eyes and she nodded at him to show that she understood what he had said. They got dressed as silently as possible and made their way out of his loft and into the storage room across the hall. Gary had actually planned for this possibility so there was a clear path through the room, all the way to the window above the fire escape. He silently raised the window, and helped Meredith out onto the landing. Not wanting to alert the thugs that their quarry was outside, he refrained from dropping the metal ladder and instead threw a rope over the side; a rope that was tied to the railing. This way they could escape with a minimum of noise. Gary helped Meredith over the railing, when she was down, he climbed down himself. Clinging to the shadows as much as possible, they made their way to the McGinty's van and got inside. Trying to act calmly, Gary started the van and eased onto Illinois. He was headed for the only place he could think of that wouldn't be immediately linked to either McGinty's or the _Sun-Times_; he just hoped he wouldn't get shot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Toni Brigatti jerked awake at the sound of her back door opening. She lay still for a moment or two and heard movement in her kitchen. Sliding out of bed, as quietly and smoothly as oiled smoke, she pulled her Smith and Wesson 10mm (she liked making big holes in her targets) and prepared to open the bedroom door. Much to her surprise, she could see the hallway light come on, it was shining through the gap by the jamb, and under the bottom of the door. These must be some pretty ballsy crooks if they're turning on lights, either that or they're just plain dumb. She went to open the door again, but again she hesitated, because she thought she recognized one of the voices. She made sure her gun was still on safe, then whipped open the door and yelled out "Hobson, is that you?"

"Yeah Toni it's us, we need your help."

Brigatti cautiously moved through the hallway until she could see into her kitchen without being clearly observed. Gary and Meredith were there, and from the disharmony of their clothes, she could guess that they had gotten dressed in the dark. Lowering her weapon, she moved to where the whole kitchen was visible; seeing no one else, she moved into the light and asked "so what the Hell is going on, and how'd you get in here?"

"Your 'hide-a-key' is really obvious" Gary said "and we had some unexpected guests at McGinty's, so we thought we'd come over to visit."

"Tell me you called the cops Hobson, and didn't just leave your business open to a bunch of government thugs."

"Well of course I called them, but what I'm really here for is to drop off Meredith, if that's OK."

"Sure, but why here?"

"No direct connection to me or the _Sun-Times_, not to mention that party favor in your hands."

Brigatti looked down, surprised to see that she still had the Smith in her hands. Quickly she put it down on the counter, but then she realized that she was only wearing a T-shirt, excusing herself she went back to her room for a robe. It was tough finding one because people just never came over, so she never had a need for it. Finally she found it under some shoes in the back of her closet. Putting it on and belting it, she went back to get some water. "Sure, you can stay here Meredith, for as long as you need to. I'll even drop you off at the _Sun-Times _in the morning, if that's OK with you."

"That would be great" Meredith said "but right now, I'm just whipped, just point me in the direction of the guest room and I'll be out of your hair."

Toni showed the other woman where the room was, and where the bathroom was, and left her to herself.

While Meredith was occupied, Toni looked at Gary and asked "what's up, she looks like hell, and I'd be willing to bet it's not because she was chased out of your place."

"She's having trouble dealing with the fact that she loves me, but while I love her, I'm not in love with her."

Toni just nodded in understanding. Seeing this Gary said "I take it you've been in a similar situation"?

"Yeah" Brigatti sighed "I know where she's commin from".

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not for a while Hobson, not until we decide that this is a bit more serious."

"It's serious for me."

"For me too, but these aren't normal days right now, lets see what all this looks like when people aren't trying to kill us, OK."

"Fair enough Brigatti and I think it's time you turned in". As he said this he got up and moved to the back door.

"Goodnight Hobson" she called after him.

"Goodnight Toni, and thanks" came floating back.

With a small smile, Toni picked up her gun, turned out the lights and went back to bed.


	9. Saves and Set Ups

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 9

Prone to deception. That was the result of the polygraph that Hobson took. He has a secret life, a life that others don't know about. I guess what scares me the most is the idea that I might be turning into something like Hobson. Here I am, a cop, an officer of the law, but I have this dark and hidden side that I cannot share or express. I see myself changing, my views, my priorities, hell my personality; but I have to pursue this, consequences be damned. But then I wonder what it will cost me, is it truly worth my family, my sanity, everything I hold dear. I remember another line from a movie 'when you dance with the devil, the devil doesn't change the devil changes you'. I lie in my bed at night and wonder what I am changing into because of Gary Hobson.

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Meow . . . . . . Thump

"And in other news." Gary hit his alarm and then tried to sink back into bed. He had been up most of the night; first escaping with Meredith and then talking to the cops about the break-in. He figured he'd gotten about 3 hours of sleep all together, and was in no mood for the paper today. Unfortunately, Cat just sat and yowled. Apparently Gary taking time to collect the paper was not allowed. He shuffled to the door, feeling more dead than alive and opened it up. Cat stopped yowling, but shot Gary a nasty glance. Gary figured that Cat was still pissed off about getting flung across the room last night. Cat sauntered into the room; almost daring Gary to look and see what was in store today. Reluctantly he picked up the paper. One look made him wish that he was still in bed. There was a lot to do this morning ending with some nut beating up a store full of people at ll:45. The good news was that there was only one save in the afternoon and it wasn't until 3:30. Quickly dressing himself and checking the paper one last time, he went sprinting out his loft carrying his baseball mitt.

Marissa had heard Gary rush out this morning, but without Meredith there to tell her what was going on, she just went to the office. Gary had left a message on her machine telling her of the break-in and that he had found a temporary place for 'his cat'. Marissa picked up on the meaning immediately. Now all she could do was wait, it was a good thing that Melanie/Teressa was scheduled to help open this morning, it would allow them time to clear the air. Marissa had talked the situation over the night before with Emmet and they had reached several possible courses of action. Now it was up to Marissa to present and Teressa to decide. After stowing her purse, she got up and went to the front room. "Brent, is Melanie here yet?"

"No Ms. Clark, should I tell her you want to see her when she gets here?"

"Yes please, I'll just be back in the office. Thanks Brent."

"No problem Ms. Clark."

She tried in vain to get something done, but the combination of worrying about Gary, and anticipating the confrontation with the young girl, her mind just wasn't into it. She had gotten another call the night before, from a detective firm that Crumb had recommended in Memphis. She had called them up as soon as Brigatti had given her the name and city and offered the entire ten thousand if they could provide some answers in under twelve hours. They had answered in six. It was clear to Marissa, and the man that had called her, that Teressa's father was a real piece of work. While there was no evidence of physical abuse, it was pretty clear that emotional abuse had been a favorite pass time of his, and it oozed from between every line of his statement and testimony. It disgusted Marissa that there were people like that in the world, people that could only boost themselves by tearing someone else down. She was just sitting there seething when Melanie/Teressa walked into the bar. She could hear Brent inform the girl that Marissa wanted to see her. She heard a knock on the door and it slowly opened.

"Ms. Clark, Brent said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes Melanie, come in please and have a seat."

The girl sat down warily, Marissa had listened to make sure that the door was closed. "Is there a problem Ms. Clark?"

"No Teressa, no problem at all."

The girl froze when she heard her real name, "what did you call me?"

"I called you by your correct name; now what we need to do is figure out what your future is gonna hold."

Marissa could hear the breakdown start, the girl sobbing and repeating, "I wont go back" over and over.

Marissa carefully moved around the desk and put her hand on the sobbing girls arm; "no one here is gonna make you go back, and other than Mr. Hobson, no one needs to know that your name is not Melaine, now dry your eyes and lets look at what options you have."

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It had been weird for Brigatti, having someone else in her house. That hadn't happened since her sister came to visit 8 months ago. It was strange, but she had never been close to her family. She loved them, but they were a lot easier to take at arms length. Both Toni and Meredith were late risers so there was a minimum of talking going on around breakfast because both women were wishing that they were still in bed.

"You still love him, don't you?" The words were out of Brigatti's mouth before she even realized she was speaking out loud.

Meredith jumped as the silence was broken. "Yeah, I still do" she said, reluctant to speak at all on the subject, but unwilling to lie.

"So why did ya leave him in the first place, I mean I can see that there's a lot of chemistry there."

"The simple answer would be to avoid temptation. Being the type of person I am, I wouldn't be able to stay away from that paper of his and try to use it for my career. I know he'd forgive a lot, but I'm not sure he'd forgive that; and there's no way I could deal with that wounded look he'd get every time I let him down. So, I left rather than change. I think it was the single worst decision of my life. Leaving him, leaving Chicago, professionally my life is great, but in every other way it's a train wreck."

Brigatti just stood there and stared at the cup in her hands "I was scared of you, did you know that? You, the history you had with him, it scared the hell out of me. I could see finally realizing what I had just in time for a past love to come in and sweep him out from under me. When I met you that day, I really wanted to hate you, but I didn't and then I couldn't even make myself dislike you, then I really got afraid because I knew that if he went back to you I wouldn't fight him about it because I like you too much. I've never felt like that; just being adrift, unable to push, to fight, to influence because anything I did had such dire consequences."

"You've had him all along; he wouldn't leave you now, not unless it was something you both wanted. You should know Gary better than that."

"My head knows your right, but my gut is having a bit of difficulty believing that."

"I never would have figured you for low self esteem."

"When I was a lot younger, I was where you are now, but with a guy that wasn't nearly as nice. He used me, then tossed me; and I guess part of me will never get over that. I was in college, and changed my major to law enforcement just so I could have a chance at shooting him. Silly, I know; but once I got into it I found that I really loved it, and that I was good at it. So I stuck with it, and here I am. Professionally great, I've just been missing life in my life, at least until lately."

"Well" Meredith quipped "look at me as incentive to not screw it up, cause you know I'm waiting in the wings."

Brigatti laughed dissipating the heavy emotions that had built up. The two women got dressed and Toni drove Meredith over to the _Sun-Times_. They chatted on the way; their friendship had grown and deepened that morning, they had exchanged fears.

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Another day of running. Gary had been on the go since he left McGinty's, but fortunately there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately he had a crazy 300 pound tattoo artist to get through before that happened. But first he had to stop the old lady from gassing herself with a balky space heater. He did, but the lonely old woman nearly talked his ear off, and Gary was too polite to just run out of her apartment. He had been just in time to catch the baseball that some kid would have followed into the street. Unfortunately all the kids wanted him to show them how to catch a pop up the right way, and being Gary, he couldn't say no. Consequently he nearly missed the kid that was going to fall into the half empty pool and drown. Gary saved him, but then had to fend off the screaming mother that thought he was attacking her son. He had escaped with his skin intact, but now he was almost running flat out to stop an art student from being crushed by a falling statue. There she was, 'Ruth Camden, student at the Art Institute of Chicago was killed when the rigging on a piece of statuary broke' she was standing near the corner of LaSalle and Monroe sketching the building in front of her. It was in the process of being renovated and the new statues were going on a ledge that was about 5 stories up. She was sketching the ones already in place and oblivious to the newest one that was being lifted right above her. Gary started sprinting towards her and yelling, but she wasn't paying attention to anything except her sketch. Both Gary and the girl heard the rigging starting to tear, and this finally got the girls attention. She looked up with a horrified expression just as the last strap let go. Gary hit her with a beautiful flying tackle and knocked her out of the way as the chunk of stone hit the ground right where they had been. Gary just lay there catching his breath when he heard a voice speak up "Did anyone get the license of the truck that just hit me?"

Gary looked up to see the girl sitting on the sidewalk with her head in her hands; all he could see were legs and a mass of brown curls. "You OK kid?"

"No, but I think I will be, that was gonna kill me, wasn't it?"

Gary looked back at the remains of the statue "probably."

She raised her head and looked into his eyes "thanks; are you alright?"

That surprised Gary; most people were too worried about themselves to care about him. "Yeah, I'm OK." He got up and tried to give her a hand up, but she didn't accept it. "Are you gonna be OK getting wherever you need to be."

The girl stood and seemed to evaluate herself "a little shaky, but I'll be fine." Seeing Gary was already moving away she yelled "thanks again."

"You're welcome" Gary said as he jogged off. He was looking for a phone because he still had a crazed tattoo artist to deal with.

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"Chicago PD, how can I help you?"

"Winslow, I need to talk to Armstrong."

Logan recognized Hobson's voice but was shocked that he wanted to talk to Paul and not Toni; "did you say you want to talk to Armstrong?"

"Yeah, if he's in."

"He's here, I'll put you through." This should be interesting he thought.

"Armstrong"

"Paul, its Gary, Gary Hobson."

"What can I do for you Hobson?"

"I need to talk to you about something and I was wondering if I could buy you lunch?"

"Where and what do you need to talk about?"

"There's a deli named Lou's one block down and one block over from the precinct, about 11:30; and I wanted to talk about your partner."

"Brigatti, is something wrong?" Armstrong was playing for time; he was trying to figure out what Hobson was really after.

"No, nothings wrong, I just needed some information and I didn't want her overhearing us."

"Whatever Hobson, you mind if Winslow tags along?" He was hoping that having Winslow as a witness would keep the conversation on the level.

"Nah, in fact he could probably help out."

"OK, 11:30; see you there." His interest was piqued and the line about Winslow helping had him speculating like mad.

"See ya Armstrong."

Well that was set, now all he had to do was get to the deli before the two detectives so he could pick the right seat.

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It was almost a celebratory atmosphere at the _Sun-Times_. Despite the gunfire yesterday, or maybe because of it, everyone seemed stoked about the story that Meredith and Molly were putting together. Diaz had provided some great pictures of the tribe members at their homes, if you could call them that; which put next to a picture of the money room at their tribal casino made quite an image. Some rash soul had already started kicking around the 'P' word (Pulitzer), but Meredith didn't want to speculate that far ahead. She would just be happy getting the goons off her back and being able to get back to her life, such as it was.

"Any chance you'll decide to come back permanently?" It was Norris, the investigative editor.

"Sorry, if I came back here it would ruffle everyone's feathers. I wouldn't want to chisel someone out of their spot; they've worked too hard for it."

"Who says I want you back as a reporter, how would you like my job?"

"Sorry, my brain stopped functioning for a second; I thought you just offered me an editor's spot."

"I did. I'm gonna be moving up to EIC and we're gonna need someone here who's smart and knows the way to sniff out a story, and even more important, can teach others how to sniff them out."

"You're serious?"

"Absolutely, I can't think of anyone better for the spot."

"Can I have 24 hours to think about it?"

"Take 48, but I expect a firm answer then. I know we're not quite as exciting as DC, but I honestly think you'd be a great editor." He patted her on the back "let me know, and enjoy the moment."

"I will." Editor, she thought to herself. In Chicago, managing all the investigative reporting for a major paper in a city she loved. Try as she might she couldn't find a downside, and because she wouldn't be a reporter, Hobson's paper was safe from her temptation. Not to mention the fact that she would be in a position to kill any story that threatened him. Maybe she could finally make up for her betrayal.

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Lou's was a bit upscale from McGinty's and it was fairly popular, but Gary had gotten there in time to get a seat that afforded him a view of the place next door. In about twenty minutes a guy that had been fired was going to come back and punctuate his displeasure with a lot of cursing and hitting. Gary had called the tattoo parlor, but they had assured him that Steve would never hurt anyone. No, not anyone except the ten people he was going to put in the hospital two of which would be in critical condition; Oh yeah, harmless as a lamb. He had hung up the phone, disgusted with people's short sightedness. At 11:35 Gary saw Armstrong and Winslow walk in. He waved them over, Winslow looked happy but Armstrong looked wary.

"So what's the big deal Hobson, why the cloak and dagger?"

"I had to ask you something and I wanted to make sure Toni didn't hear about it. You know we've been dating, anyway I was just wondering if she had ever mentioned somewhere she wanted to see or go too. I was wanting to surprise her and that's tough to do if I ask her first; so, any ideas?"

"She's always talking about the Bahamas" Winslow shot out at once.

Armstrong just glared at him "yeah Logan, like a joke 'that'll happen when I vacation in the Bahamas' don't you understand sarcasm?"

Winslow started to answer Paul, but thought better of it "nothing that I've ever heard, other than the Bahamas comment." Paul agreed that he had never heard Brigatti express any interest in any vacation spot, or in vacations for that matter.

"Well you guys think about it, we've got all lunch." Gary buried his head in the menu and studied the paper in his lap; the headline hadn't changed, five minutes to go.

"So what's good here Hobson?"

"The Pastrami, they're supposed to spice it here so it has a unique flavor."

The three men ordered and began just chatting. It turned out that Armstrong was originally from Chicago and was almost as big a Cubs fan as Gary. They were speculating on the possibilities for the upcoming season, when Gary noticed someone yelling. "Uhm, guys. There's a really huge guy outside, and he looks pissed off about something."

The two cops turned and saw the irate tattoo artist, he was screaming about getting even so loud they could hear it through the window. With a sigh Armstrong turned to Winslow "come on Logan, we might as well go shut him up before we need to arrest him."

"You want me along" Gary piped up.

"Sure Hobson, just act official."

"By the way Winslow his name is Steve, in case you need to know."

"Thanks Gary" Winslow replied. Armstrong gave him an odd look "how the heck do you know that?"

"About three years ago there were a bunch of bikers in McGinty's talking about beating up some guy named Steve who was a tattoo artist. I had Marissa keep em there with cheap beer and warned him so he could get away."

"And you remember his name after all this time?"

"What can I say, names just stick with me."

They turned back to see Winslow trying to talk the huge guy down, he wasn't doing a very good job. It was looking like Steve was going to take his anger out on Winslow instead of everyone else when Gary decided to intervene.

"Uhhhh, Steve; you're really in a no win situation here. If you attack this guy who just happens to be a cop, then his partner here might shoot you. If you attack his partner, then he might shoot you. If you ignore them and go for the people in the store, they'll probably taser you, so that you would be paralyzed on the pavement and that would be embarrassing. So anything other than stopping right now and walking away is gonna end badly. Do you really want your wife to have to come down and bail you out or ID your body at the morgue?"

He stopped and thought about what Gary had just said: "these two guys are really cops?"

"Yeah, detectives Armstrong and Winslow, the three of us just happened to be eating next door when we heard you."

"So can I just walk away?"

Gary looked at Armstrong and Winslow "what do you say, can he walk?"

Winslow looked non-committal, but Paul just said "our sandwiches are probably up, and we don't have that long for lunch, let's go Logan, Moriarty."

The three of them walked back into the deli as big Steve gladly walked away. When they sat down the waitress walked up with their order "nice job officers, this lunch is on the house."

Gary looked over at the two detectives, especially at Armstrong; wondering why he had called Gary 'Moriarty' "now where were we, Ahhh yes, places other than the Bahamas' that Brigatti might want to go; so anything else come to mind?"

They finished lunch and left. Gary indeed had a few more ideas for places to visit. He made his way back to McGinty's hoping that everyone else was having a good day and wondering what was going on with Armstrong.

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Teressa couldn't believe the situation that she had fallen into. Instead of being turned in as a runaway, Ms. Clark had filed a restraining order against her father and agreed to custodial duties until she was 18. This meant that she had to live with Ms. Clark, but considering where she was staying right now; a cardboard box would be a step up. So, in three months; she would be free of her father. With all that she had been through in the last couple of years, it was hard for her to believe that people like Marissa actually existed. She wasn't so happy that the Memphis police, and her father had to be informed of her whereabouts, but that was unavoidable. Rather than send one of their own officers up to Chicago, they had asked Chicago PD to take her statement. She was waiting for the officer to show up; when she noticed that the bar seemed awfully crowded for an early afternoon. There were a lot of happy people here celebrating something, well that was appropriate, she was celebrating too.

Marissa noticed the extra crowd as well, but unlike Teressa, she knew what it was about. Meredith, Molly and the crew from the _Sun-Times_ had wandered in and were making quite a bit of noise. As Marissa listened she noticed something odd, there was a part of the bar that wasn't generating noise, like a dead spot. She knew that there were tables in that direction, and she knew that they were nearly full, so for some reason the people over there were not happy. She turned to the day bartender "Brent, who's sitting over by Mr. Hobson's table, describe them for me."

When he wasn't tending bar, Brent was an actor, or at least he was trying to be; consequently he had a gift for colorful but accurate descriptions. He took a look at the crew that Ms. Clark was interested in. They sure were a gloomy bunch. "I'd say they looked like some low-rent commodities brokers that have had a real bad day. Cheap suits, sour expressions and they keep glaring at the folks from the paper."

Marissa's alarms were going off "thank you Brent" was all she said, but immediately she went back to the office and called Crumb. "Do you think you could come in early today? I think the guys that broke in last night are back."

Upon hearing this, Crumb was on his way. He checked the streets when he arrived and noticed two cars that stood out to him, both of which were looked like 'government undistinguished'. When he came in, he immediately noticed the cheap suits and the sour demeanor of the corner crew. Brent was happy to have him there because the newspaper people were really tying it on. Everyone in that party was really getting pickled and starting to get a bit rowdy.

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Gary walked into McGinty's at about 1:15. He was surprised at the noise level in the place. Usually the bar was pretty tame after one, but there seemed to be a lot of happy people there. He was even more surprised to notice Crumb behind the bar with Brent. Marissa must have called him in early and she only did that when she thought there might be trouble. He was just standing there thinking when Molly Green came up to him "so Hobson, anything going on today, where ya been?"

"Just running some errands Molly, what the occasion?"

"The story is gonna come out tomorrow, it's looking real good."

"That's great, but shouldn't you all be back at work, it is after one and all."

She looked around "Yeah, we probably should, by the way; nice place Hobson."

Molly proceeded to round up the newspaper gang and herd them out the door and back in the direction of the _Sun-Times_. Meredith stayed behind. "Hey Gary, can we talk a second?"

"Sure Meredith, just head on back to the office and I'll be there in a second." He walked over to Marissa, "anything wrong?"

She turned to him with a bright smile on her face, "nope, nothing at all" but on the order sheet in front of her Gary read the words 'the crew in the corner'.

"Well, as long as everything's OK, I'll be back in the office."

As he headed back, he checked the paper and saw a new headline 'Government Agents arrested in Bar'. He saw that the arresting officer was Logan Winslow and wondered why Winslow was gonna be at McGinty's. By the time he made it to the office he decided to call Brigatti and maybe that would push Winslow into coming over.

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Winslow had just gotten back from lunch when the request came in from the Memphis PD. They needed someone to go interview this runaway and make sure she wasn't being coerced or harmed in any way. Before he made detective Logan had worked in both 'street gang' and 'child crime' units; he liked working with kids and had a good feel for them, and an almost sixth sense for when they were lying. He was a lot surprised to see that her day address was McGinty's, but maybe not as surprised as he could have been. He knew that Paul didn't like Hobson at all, but Logan thought Gary was a good guy, and he had kept his mouth shut about the whole raccoon thing. He showed up at McGinty's just as the last of the newspaper crew were headed back to work. He recognized Crumb behind the bar and walked over. "Is Ms. Walters in?"

"Yeah, wait here a second."

The old detective walked to the back and found Marissa "there's some yutz looking for Melanie, you expecting this?"

"Yeah Crumb, tell him we'll be there in a second."

He just nodded and relayed the message to the younger man. Pretty soon Marissa came out of the back accompanied by Melanie/Teressa. Marissa turned to her, "this is detective Winslow, do you want to talk to him here in the restaurant or somewhere private?"

"Right out here is OK; but how did you know it was detective Winslow?"

"I recognize his cologne and his voice, but mostly his cologne; not many people wear 'High Karate' anymore."

The two of them sat down at a table and Logan started asking questions. He apologized to the girl for some of the things he was required to ask her, because it embarrassed him a bit, and because it made the girl uncomfortable. He also knew that Marissa Clark was only about ten feet away and there was no way she wasn't going to hear what was said. He got through with the prepared questions and just started talking to the girl, what she liked, where she had been, what she wanted to do with her life. In the middle of this part of the interview the phone rang, Marissa picked it up and after a moment or two said "phone for you detective."

Logan excused himself and took the phone from Marissa "Winslow". He listened for a few moments, clearly startled but doing his best to not show it. He made a couple of notes and said "I'll take care of it". He hung up the phone and went back to the table with the girl. "Sorry about that, official business and all." He talked to the girl for another ten minutes or so, then got up. "I'll pass my findings on to Memphis, but I doubt they'll do anything. You're in a home and you haven't been kidnapped or coerced so it should be no problem." He turned and handed Marissa a card "my sister is with Social Services, here's her number in case you have any questions or need anything".

Marissa was floored; she had not expected anything approaching a reaction like this, "thank you Logan, you're a good person."

Winslow just blushed and headed out the door. He was gone about ten minutes when he came back into the bar, he looked fairly nervous. "Sorry about this, but I forgot something I'm required to do." He walked over to the bar and muttered 'back me up' to Crumb. He then turned, drawing his pistol and yelling "don't move, you're all under arrest" to the gloomy crew in the corner.

A bit shocked, they put their hands up with remarkable speed; of course Crumb pulling a double barrel ten gauge from behind the bar might have sped their compliance. Winslow pulled his walkie-talkie and said "clear". Immediately eight uniforms moved in and cuffed and escorted the men out of the bar. He holstered his gun and turned back to the bar "thanks for the back-up. It looks like they may have been involved in the shooting yesterday, and we also found some stuff in their cars that linked them to the break-in here last night. Sorry to frighten you" he said, speaking to Marissa, Teressa and Brent "but I've got to go. I'll keep you informed of what happens" he said to Marissa and left.

"I don't know about you guys" Crumb said, putting the shotgun away "but I've had about as much fun as I can stand in one day." The other three just nodded in agreement.

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A/N – For those who are curious, yes Ruth Camden is Ruthie from 7th Heaven. I'm setting up a possible crossover story which I may or may not do; I'm still turning it over in my mind. But if I do go with it, this will be part of the background. POE1911


	10. Precautions and Obsessions

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS - CHAPTER 10

I see what he's doing. He's isolating me. Somehow he knows that I have guessed what he truly is. He's romanced Brigatti, and now he hands Winslow a high profile bust, the kind that gets noticed politically. The only thing I can't figure is why I'm still alive. If he knows about my suspicions, they why has he done the things that he has to protect me. Why call me and urge me to wear my vest one day, a day that I just happen to take one in the chest. The only thing that makes sense is that I pose absolutely no threat to him. This would mean that in addition to the police, he has co-opted the courts as well. That he has made himself invulnerable to assault. Even if I tried to expose what he is, would the papers carry it? Would my superiors believe it? If the whole thing managed to go to trial, would the judge just throw it out? Could he have neutralized me without my knowledge? God help us all if he has.

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Brigatti walked into McGinty's on top of the world. Both her pending cases had broken, and within fifteen minutes of each other. She was amazed at how things like that happened, you work and work and then when you just pull on the right thread, the whole thing unravels. She had heard about Winslow's bust, and that Meredith had at least one group off of her tail. She had no more stepped inside when she was grabbed around the waist from behind and picked up. "How was your day Brigatti?"

"Put me on the damn ground Hobson and I'll tell you" she yelled, a trifle put out by her undignified position.

Gary put her feet back on the ground, but before she could regain her balance, he spun her around like a ballerina and planted a kiss right on her. All of her protests just stopped being important. After a bit, she wasn't sure if it was a second, minute or hour, he pulled slightly away and looked into her eyes "you had a good day too?"

"No Hobson, I had a great day. I closed both my outstanding cases, it's just wrap up from here on out, plus I got a well done from my captain and a call from the mayor's office."

"That's great Brigatti, congratulations. Think ya might get a promotion out of all this?"

As they were talking they made their way across the bar and sat down at Gary's table. "Maybe, I've had a pretty good week, anyway how was your day Hobson, at least ya didn't end up covered in paint."

"Not bad, just busy; I think sometimes that I should try out for the Chicago Marathon with all the running I do. You hungry?"

"I could eat."

Gary waved Robin over "could we have a menu, please." She just nodded and left, when she came back with one Gary asked "good day today Robin?"

"About average, except for the rowdy newspaper people, and that arrest here; Oh, Tony wants you to try something, he wanted to add a pasta dish to the menu so he's trying this ravioli that's stuffed with Bratwurst and pizza sauce, then he covers it with cheese and bakes it. He calls it 'Chicago Ravioli' wanna try?"

Gary looked over at Toni who just shrugged "what the hell Hobson, I'm feeling adventurous." Gary just turned back and nodded at Robin, then added "bring a decent Chianti with that OK." Robin said she would and went off to take care of the order.

"So other than you closing all your cases, any excitement around the precinct?"

"Well, Winslow now thinks you hung the moon for helping with that huge guy and for taking care of that waitress of yours. He had a long chat with the guy in Memphis and it sounds like Mr. Walters is a grade A asshole. They told him to watch out, that the restraining order might put the guy off his rails."

"Really, they think he might be dangerous?"

"He could be, why?"

"Cause she's staying with Marissa, what if some psycho shows up at her door?"

'Well she's got that dog."

"Riley" Gary laughed "Riley would lick the guy to death and that's about it, maybe I should suggest that Emmet should stay over for a couple of nights."

"Assuming he isn't already" Brigatti added.

Gary almost choked on his water at the suggestion that Marissa might be fooling around before marriage, and said as much.

Brigatti just shook her head at him "she's an adult and so is he, ya never know Hobson."

Gary was spared a reply by Robin showing up with two plates of ravioli and a bottle of Chianti. Gary popped the cork and poured the wine for both of them as Robin went off to keep everything flowing well. The ravioli was pretty good, Brigatti really seemed to like it, so Gary decided it would become part of the permanent menu. They were just eating in silence, each one studying the other. Their thoughts were similar; both wondering if this could really be the one, and both afraid to say anything like that out loud. They were both finishing up and Gary had finally made up his mind to broach the subject when Marissa and Meredith came over.

Meredith was in a great mood, between the story coming out and the arrest of the goons from the Department of the Interior; she was flying high at the moment. Marissa was doing pretty good herself, having resolved the Melanie/Terssa situation, and tipping off Winslow to search the government cars. Brigatti passed on her good news and Gary detailed a couple of his saves, including big Steve. Everyone was relaxed when Brigatti looked over at Marissa "you'll want to be extra careful for the next couple of days." She then detailed what the Memphis PD had passed on to Winslow.

"Do you think we're in danger?"

"Honestly I don't Marissa, but it couldn't hurt to take a couple of extra precautions."

"Like what?"

"Well, aside from keeping Riley loose at night, you could have Emmet stay over; just in case."

Gary swore that for just a second Marissa looked embarrassed, and he wondered if Brigatti wasn't onto something.

"Anything else?"

"Just keep a baseball bat or something handy, and don't open the door to anyone you don't know, for any reason; especially anyone with a southern accent. And add my number to your speed dial; I'm not that far away."

Marissa just nodded at all of these ideas; Brigatti was making a lot of sense. "Do you think I should tell Teressa?"

"You're the shrink, not me; but if it was my call, I'd say yes. You don't want to keep secrets when you're trying to build trust."

"I'll do that, and thanks Toni."

"No problem, you're a friend, and friends do for each other."

"Well then friend" Meredith spoke up "do you think you could handle having a roommate for a bit longer."

"Don't push it Carson, why would you want to be here any longer than necessary?"

"Cause the _Sun-Times_ is offering me an editor's spot. If I took it I'd need a place until I got settled. Besides" she said while looking at the table "I feel safe with you."

Brigatti blushed at the compliment, then turned serious "OK, but you've got to work on being neater; I never realized what a neat-freak I was until you moved in."

"Deal" Meredith said, relief evident in her voice. She had expected a bit more violent reaction from the feisty Italian, but she could tell that Toni was becoming more secure in her and Gary's relationship.

Conversation waned for a bit, then Gary asked a question; "does the name Moriarty ring any bells?"

"You mean like Professor Moriarty" Marissa asked.

"I suppose, who's he?"

"Sherlock Holmes arch nemesis, the 'Napoleon of Crime', geez Hobson, didn't you read when you were a kid" Toni threw in.

"Yes I read when I was a kid, just not Sherlock Holmes. So he's some kind of super criminal."

"Yeah" Meredith answered "but what's neat about him is that no-one realizes it. Everyone just thinks he's this math teacher, but that's just his cover, no-one suspects that he's this criminal mastermind."

"All of you seem to know about him."

"I grew up listening to the movies, finally I decided to read the books and see what was being left out."

"I read them because they sort of taught me how to think, how to approach a crime logically."

"I just liked how he connected things together, just like in a good story. So why the question?"

"Armstrong called me 'Moriarty' today. I think it just slipped out, but I knew I had heard the name before, but I couldn't remember where."

The table got quiet as all three women started adding things up.

"Toni, didn't you say that Armstrong was suspicious of anything that Gary got involved in?"

"Yeah, he's real twitchy about anything Hobson touches, even stuff like that mugging you saw."

"So do you think" Marissa asked "that Armstrong truly believes that Gary is some kind of criminal mastermind?"

"That's nuts" Meredith said "as many times as Gary has saved both him and his wife, how could he think that of Gary?"

Marissa answered back and soon the two of them and Gary were discussing the situation; Toni just sat there, not even listening. Her thoughts were running at a mile a minute.

"So what do you think Toni" Meredith asked, snapping the woman out of her reverie.

"I think that's exactly what Armstrong believes. He's always asking me about people you meet, folks that show up in the bar. I know he's staked out the place a time or two. Just him looking at who's coming or going. I think he's even run background checks on most of your employees, but I can't confirm that. All of that would only make sense if he truly thought that Gary was some sort of Moriarty."

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard, I'm not a criminal, I prevent crimes."

"Yeah, but do you prevent all of them? See, Armstrong would look at that and wonder why the things that happen; happen. If you stop one crime, why not all crimes. And if you don't stop the ones that occur, then there's some self-serving reason for you doing so. Armstrong's just about the most cynical person I've ever met, and with that mindset he would be forced to conclude that you stop some crimes and allow others because you are a criminal and that those crimes that do occur benefit you. He would be forced to conclude that the only way you could know about the crimes that are going to occur would be if you were part of the criminal network. There's no other explanation that fits his interpretation of the facts."

They all looked at each other in sober silence. Brigatti knew Armstrong better than anyone else at the table, better practically than anyone else period. None of them were about to dispute her conclusions because they believed that she was right.

Finally Marissa spoke up, "is there anything we can do?"

"Not really" Brigatti answered "just pray he doesn't do too much damage when he finally looses it."

"What do you mean 'loose it'?"

"Come on Marissa, you're the shrink, you know what obsessions do to the person obsessing, and what he or she can do to the object of their obsession."

Marissa sighed "yeah, I know; but I wonder if there's a way to head him off, without telling him about the paper I mean" she added when Gary started to protest.

"Well, it sound like we've got homework tonight" Meredith quipped "find a way to defuse an obsessed police detective". They all gave a rather strained laugh and started to leave.

Toni had lingered near the stairs to the loft as Marissa went to collect Teressa and Meredith went into the back room to chat some with Abby "don't worry Hobson; we'll come up with something".

"I know you will Toni, I just don't want you to get hurt, either you or your career."

"Thanks Gary, but it's my turn to take care of you now."

"I know it's just an unusual position for me to be in."

"You've got friends Hobson, let em take care of you once in a while; you don't have to be Superman all the time."

He gave her a bit of a crooked grin, "ya know that's easier said then done, I've been Superman for so long it feels like that's who I am; a lot more than Gary Hobson."

"Yeah well even Superman had Lois Lane, and I'm tougher than she was."

He gave her a full chuckle for that one "I believe that Brigatti".

Suddenly she was in his arms and for some reason, near to tears. She kissed him fiercely and gasped out "you be careful Hobson, I'm not about to loose you."

Gary was surprised by the force behind the words, and could only nod. Then he kissed her and said "You becareful too Toni, cause I don't want to loose you either; you're the brightest part of my day Brigatti."

They just stood there, holding each other and staring into each other's eyes. They said nothing because there was really nothing more to be said. They could have said 'I love you' but the words would only be a faint shadow of their feelings. Slowly, reluctantly, they parted. As Gary headed up to his loft he probably should have checked the paper one last time, but he didn't.


	11. Injury and Tragedies

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 11

You've heard of the saying 'six degrees of separation'; well in Chicago, there's about two degrees of separation for Hobson. On more than one occasion I've walked into a place and just asked if anyone knew a 'Gary Hobson'; I've never had less than two people say that they did. Anywhere, upscale or down, everyone seems to know this guy or at least heard of this guy. What I get from them when we talk is an almost unanimous litany of praise. 'He saved me', 'he saved my family', 'he saved my mother, father brother whatever', just about everyone loves this guy. I can't even tell you how many people wanted me to tell them where he was so they could thank him more fully than they already had. This fits though, everyone knows Hobson, but I could only find a handful that were able to describe him as anything but 'Tall, White, Dark hair'. The people that owe him their lives couldn't pick him out of a line-up. Which makes me wonder something? Could Hobson have hired people to perform these deeds, people that looked like him, people that were forced to leave immediately after because they weren't actually him? Is Hobson creating this huge fan base so that even if he's ever tried for something, the 'vox populi' wouldn't let anything happen to him. In Chicago, it would be like putting Michael Jordan on trial for J-walking, political suicide for anyone that tried it. So maybe I have been neutralized. He's got the cops (most of them at least), the courts, the media and the people, who would be able to hurt him? Obviously the criminals, but he has them removed. So who's left? Me and a couple others, but that's it. I'm seriously thinking I should leave; just take Meredith and the kid and go. But could I walk away from this, and would Hobson let me?

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Meow . . . . . . . . Thump

"In politics today . . . ." Gary shut off the alarm and just lay there for a moment. He had gotten to bed early and slept well, that was unusual for him. And he knew that Brigatti loved him that was very unusual for him. He was surprised with himself because he usually worried about screwing up a relationship, so much so that he had a tough time getting one started, but not this one, this one just felt right. He opened his door and saw Cat wearing an expression that was almost ashamed; then he saw the headline and knew why.

"Detective Murdered in Home"; next to it was a pretty good picture of Brigatti. Slowly, as though refusal to accept the headline would make it go away, he picked up the paper and read the story. Brigatti and an unnamed woman were going to be murdered in her home. From the story it sounded like Brigatti put up a hell of a fight and dropped three of her attackers, but ultimately was killed. According to the paper this was all supposed to happen at 8:15; so he had time to call and warn her. He tore down the stairs not even bothering to read the rest of the paper or even get dressed. Saving Brigatti was the only thing that really mattered to him at the moment.

He picked up the phone, his fingers flying over the buttons, he heard it ring, just once and then the answering machine picked up.

"This is Brigatti, leave a message"

"Toni, it's Gary, you've got to get out of there, and you've got to get out of there now. Some guys are gonna break into your house and kill you around 8:15, so get the hell out of there now. You hear me Brigatti" he yelled into the phone, hoping his voice would stir someone to life; but there was no answer, just the beep of the machine.

He slammed the phone down, then immediately checked the paper, but the story hadn't changed. Then he noticed another story lower on the front page, 'Two women beaten outside bar'. It looked like Teressa's dad was wasn't the kind to let go easily. He was wondering how to handle both these situations when he heard voices in the office. He was wondering what was going on when Marissa and Teressa came out of the back, obviously headed out somewhere.

"Don't go out there" Gary yelled.

Both ladies froze. "What's wrong Gary?"

He looked at Marissa, "her dad is out there and he's not happy, you both need to leave out the back and call the police."

Teressa looked from one to the other, she could not believe that they were serious, but the looks on their faces convinced her that they were. She turned to Ms. Clark who said "come on Teressa, out the back. Will you be OK Gary?"

"Yeah Marissa, I'll be fine, you all hurry on. George isn't back there yet is he?"

"No" Teressa shot over her shoulder as the two ladies hurried out through the office and kitchen. Marissa called the police, but she also called Crumb.

"Be sure to lock the back once you're out" he yelled at the retreating figures.

Inside McGinty's, Gary was sitting at the bar, trying to figure out how he was going to warn Brigatti before it was too late. He knew that calling the cops was out of the question, there was no way that they'd believe him; he was going to have to go over there himself, but he couldn't leave until he knew that Marissa and Teressa would be safe from the girl's father. And that wouldn't happen until the man was arrested, so sitting and waiting were his only options at the moment. He was sitting at the bar, checking the rest of the paper when his head shot up, someone was opening the front door. He moved to stop it, but he was too late. Brent walked in "hey, Mr. Hobson, this guy said he needed to talk to you". He turned back to indicate who he was talking about when a baseball bat cracked into the side of his head. Without a sound, Brent slid to the floor.

The first thing Gary saw was the bat, followed by a fairly muscular arm, which belonged to a pretty big Guy. Mr. Walters couldn't compare to big Steve, but he was bigger than Gary.

"Where's my daughter, Mr. Hobson?"

"She's not here."

"So what have you done with her, have you had your way with her yet?" Mr. Walters was slowly approaching Gary the bat waving in front of him, almost like a flag.

Gary was disgusted by what the man was suggesting "I haven't touched your daughter, that's just sick."

"Why else would you keep a useless little bitch like her around, she's no good for anything else, just like her slut of a mother".

Without any further comment (thankfully) Ted Walters charged and started swinging his bat at Gary. Gary was backing up putting tables and stools between himself and this psycho, all the wile looking for something to use as a weapon, or at least allow his to defend himself. He had thought about the shotgun under the counter, but he believed that only killing Mr. Walters would stop him, and Gary knew he could never pull a trigger. Without realizing it, he had been backed into a wall; he put his hand out to steady himself after a difficult dodge, when he felt something hard and wooden. Without looking he grabbed and pulled and found that he had a hockey stick in his hand. Not just any stick, but his Chris Chelios autographed stick, back from when Chelly played for the Black Hawks and not the damned Red Wings. Without thinking, he jabbed the knob end into the guy's chest and pushed. The guy tripped over a chair and went down hard. Gary probably could have finished him right then, but he was more worried about Brent. Going over to the young bartender, he checked for a pulse, and found it strong and steady. That was good news at least; Gary turned back to see what crazy Ted was doing, when the bat hit him in the ribs. The pain was enormous, and he definitely heard some cracking. He tried to catch his breath, but couldn't seem to manage it. Gary was on the floor, kneeling in front of Brent, the hockey stick above his head trying to protect them both from the rain of blows that Ted was throwing at them. Finally one blow slipped past and caught Gary right above the forehead. The room went dark, like it was suddenly twilight, and he couldn't remember why the man was mad at him. He only knew that someone would be hurt if he failed, so he tried to hold on. He couldn't, and he collapsed, waiting for the bat to hit him again. He heard a surprising metalic clang, and the lights went out.

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After Marissa's call, Crumb hurried down to McGinty's, wondering what trouble Hobson had gotten himself into. He saw the door open and from inside he could hear someone screaming and the sound of two wooden items hitting each other. Being careful, he peeked in and saw a large blond man swinging a bat at Hobson, the expression on the guys face was totally insane. Hobson looked dazed, and was trying to protect himself and someone else. Being as quiet as he could, Crumb moved into the bar, and pulled an old fire hose nozzle down from the wall. While he was doing that he heard a wet smack, and jerked back around just in time to see Hobson collapse with a groan, leaving himself wide open. The crazy guy lifted his bat with a roar of triumph, just in time for Crumb to crease his skull with the nozzle. The guy pirouetted slowly; his glance at Crumb showed a face that did not quite understand what had just happened. Then, without a sound, he dropped the bat and collapsed himself. Without letting go of the nozzle, Crumb went to see if Hobson was OK and see who he had been protecting. He immediately recognized Brent and checked both men out, making sure that both were breathing and that both hearts were beating. After assuring himself that they were alright, he checked on the guy that he had clocked. He heard noise and looked back; Hobson was muttering something about 'calling Brigatti'. He debated on waking the younger man up, but decided to wait until the EMT's got there.

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Armstrong had been heading in when dispatch patched through a call from a nearly hysterical Marissa Clark. She was going on about some nut attacking Hobson and she asked him to hurry over. Part of him wanted to just let it go, but he turned his car around, and called for back-up. Sad to say, his biggest reason for going was to find out who hated Hobson enough to attack him. He pulled up to the front of McGinty's and saw the open door; he pulled his gun and slowly eased into the bar. He saw some indistinct movement, so he whipped around the corner and yelled FREEZE. What he saw was Crumb, holding something made out of metal.

"Hey, Armstrong, glad you're here."

"What's going on Crumb?"

"Beats the hell out of me, Marissa called me, so I came over and there's this guy going at Hobson with a baseball bat."

"Who's the other guy?"

"That's Brent, he's the day bartender; he usually shows up early and opens the place up."

"Any ID on the attacker?"

"I didn't check, I was waiting for you guys to show, I didn't want to foul up the crime scene."

"Well" said Armstrong, holstering his gun "let's see if we can pin a name on this clown."

The two detectives went through the blond guy's pockets. They discovered he was Ted Walters of Memphis Tennessee, and so far as they could tell, he had no connection what so ever to Hobson or Chicago. They were still trying to puzzle out the why's and wherefore's when the EMT's showed up, as well as Marissa and a young woman.

The medical guys went to work on the three victims, while Armstrong and Crumb tried to find out what was going on from the two ladies.

Marissa was trying to explain about the young waitress and her father, when a groan from one of the men interrupted them.

"Gary" Marissa gasped and hurried over to him. Armstrong went with her, while Crumb was still with the girl he thought of as Melanie, trying to understand the whole story.

When Marissa got to her friend, she could feel the blood on his head and hear the confusion in his voice. "You've got to warn Brigatti, she's gonna be killed."

"What are you talking about Gary, they got the guy that attacked you."

"Not him, Mob, they're gonna kill Toni and Meredith, at 8:15; what time is it?"

"7:35" Armstrong answered "how do you know this?"

"No time right now, you need to get over there" Gary gasped out.

"I'm not going anywhere until I get an explanation" Armstrong insisted.

"Then her blood will be on your hands, and I'll never let you forget that" Gary glared at the detective "I just know she's in trouble, now get over there."

Armstrong recoiled a bit at the vehemence in Hobson's tone, but his spine stiffened, he wasn't going anywhere.

She could hear the agitation and sincerity in her friend's voice. Marissa knew that Toni and Meredith were in trouble, but she could also tell that Armstrong wasn't going to move unless someone forced him. She leaned close to Gary "should I tell him"?

Gary looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged "if it's the only thing that will save her, sure."

Marissa nodded and stood up, "come on detective, let's go save your partner."

Armstrong just glared at the two of them "what the hell are you talking about."

"Just what Gary said, Toni and Meredith are in danger, we need to get over there, and I'll explain everything on the way." She emphasized the last, implying that they should already be moving.

Armstrong was at war with himself, part of him didn't want to let Hobson out of his sight, another was worried that these people might know something and that Brigatti was really in danger, and the third was ecstatic at the promise of an explanation, perhaps even confession. He got up and took Marissa's arm "OK Ms. Clark, just come with me." He took her out of the bar and to his car, helped her into the front seat and went around the other side. He started it up and got on the radio, telling dispatch that he was on his way to Brigatti's and that a black and white should meet them there. This done, he looked over at the blind woman next to him. He could see the worry creasing her face. "OK Ms. Clark, explain away."

Marissa sighed, not sure that this was the smartest move, but began anyway "about six years ago, Gary, Chuck and I were working for a stock brokerage….."

Fifteen incredulous minutes later, he pulled up to Brigatti's place, his attention immediately drawn to the number of cars around it, and the open front door. He didn't believe Marissa's story for a second, but it looked like she and Hobson were right when they said Brigatti was in trouble. The patrol car showed up just then, and with the two officers, Armstrong went into the house.

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Melanie/Teressa had finally calmed down enough to where Crumb could understand her story. He shook his head, the things Hobson got messed up in. He sat her down, away from the activity, then walked over to the EMT's to see how everyone was. It sounded like Brent, and the guythat Crumb hadclobbered both had severe concussions, Brent also might have suffered damage to his left eye. Hobson just had a mild concussion, but also three broken ribs. Crumb could see the younger man drifting in and out of consciousness as they prepared to load him into the ambulance; every time he was awake he went on about Brigatti. He had figured that Hobson had a thing for the reporter, not the detective, but if he had a thing for the detective, where did the reporterette figure in. He sighed and shook his head again; leave it to Hobson to complicate the obvious.

Un-noticed by all, a ginger cat sat watching the unfolding events in the corner. If you bothered to look underneath the cat you would see a paper, but no one bothered to look.

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Brigatti's alarm went off; she lay there for a second before rolling over and turning it off. She got up and stumbled into the shower; god she hated mornings. She turned on the light in the bathroom and got a look at herself. 'If Hobson saw me like this he'd have kittens'. Then she realized that he had seen her like this, the morning after he told her about the paper. She smiled to herself when she recalled that morning, she had seen him checking her out, and he certainly hadn't looked like he was disappointed. Toni debated on waking Meredith before taking a shower, but remembered that the reporter was worse about mornings than she was. It would be pointless to try and wake her until there was some coffee going. Checking that the water was up to temp, she got into the shower and started her day.

Twenty five minutes later, Meredith Carson was awakened by an aggravated voice; "get your butt out of bed Carson, or I'll drag you to that paper of yours in your skivvies".

Meredith's eyes fired open, and there standing over her was Toni Brigatti. The woman had two cups of coffee in her hands, and for this Meredith was willing to forgive practically anything. Without a word, Meredith took the mug offered her, and started sipping it quickly, letting the warmth and caffeine work on her. She glanced at the other woman in the room. Meredith had always been a loner, and she sensed that Toni had been the same way; if you had asked either of them a week ago 'Are you lonely' they would have looked at the questioner as though they were insane. Neither of them would have known how to answer, it would be like asking a blind man to describe color. They had always been lonely; neither of them had ever known any other way. Then they fell into each others lives, and discovered what they had been missing. Looking back on it, Meredith wondered how she had managed to live her life this far without friends. Toni was just standing there, lost in her own thoughts, at ease with Meredith, when she glanced at her watch, "come on Carson, we're burning daylight" she said and left the room. Meredith proceeded to get dressed; she took her showers at night, that way she could sleep later in the morning. She was heading toward the kitchen when she saw the flashing light on Brigatti's answering machine. Being a reporter, her curiosity level was always way above normal so not even considering that it might be private, she hit the replay button.

'Toni, its Gary' the message started, but the tone was wild, almost hysterical. When the gist of the message got through, Meredith understood why, so did Toni, who had wandered out there at the sound of Hobson's voice. When the message had finished, both women looked at each other, fear dilating their eyes, then they looked at the clock in the hall 8:10; damn.

They were moving towards the back door, Brigatti with her gun out, when they heard movement. That meant the back door was out, and if they were at the back then the front was covered to; well probably. To check, Brigatti stood to one side and jiggled the knob. The roar of the shotgun sounded like a mortar blast in the townhouse. Brigatti quickly retreated down the hallway with Meredith, trying desperately to figure a way out of this. She had her Smith out and was covering the only approach to the hall when she asked Meredith "can you shoot?"

"Hell yes, you have another gun in this place, where is it?"

"My bedroom, bottom drawer in the nightstand, and there's a few extra clips for this thing, bring those too."

Meredith ducked into the bedroom and dashed over to the nightstand. She heard the doors to the apartment bang open, she was moving as fast as she could, but was afraid she'd be too late. There it was, an Army issue .45 automatic and about five full clips for the thing. Her eyes widened, there were also about ten clips for the Smith; she just shook her head, what was Brigatti preparing for World War III? She stopped and heard movement in the living room, then the booming bark of Brigatti's 10mm; she closed her eyes and just for a second tried to believe that this was a dream or a movie or something other that real life. But it didn't go away, and her friend was in trouble, so she went to do what she could. She opened the door just a crack and saw Brigatti next to the bathroom door, kneeling with the gun trained down the hall towards the living room. She opened the door a bit more and started tossing the extra clips for the Smith past Brigatti and into the bathroom.

Suddenly there were what sounded like coughs coming from the living room, and the air above the two women was filled with lead. Brigatti dove into the bathroom yelling "God I hate machine guns". Meredith eased back, leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar and standing up, moved back against the wall so she could see into the hallway between the jamb and the back of the door.

The thugs had only heard the one gun, so they figured that there was only one person. They moved down the hallway firing to cover their movement, trying to get a shot into the bathroom where they had seen Brigatti dive. Meredith waited until she could see at least three of them and then, crouching down, opened up with the Colt. As the would-be killers turned to respond to her attack, Brigatti leaned out of the bathroom and tore them to pieces. The shear volume of sound pummeled Meredith's ears; she could not even hear herself scream. Suddenly, there was silence, almost as loud as the shooting. As her sensereturned, Meredith could hear things, sounds she could not identify. One was a bubbling sound, like a kid blowing through a straw into a milkshake; the other was a deep moan, like trees in the wind. She looked out the door and almost puked. There were four bodies there, all covered in blood. Two were obviously dead, parts their heads were missing; the third was slumped against the wall with an incredulous look on his face and four holes in his chest. The fourth was the source of one of the noises, he had been hit in the lungs and the air rushing in and out made that horrid sound that she had heard. The groaning was coming from the living room.

The problem the ladies faced was simply this, they had no idea how many people there were. Was this all, dare they risk it, should they try to make a break for it, was a survivor calling for re-enforcements; they didn't know so they couldn't move. At least they couldn't try to leave, but that didn't mean they couldn't try to add to their arsenal.

"Carson, try to get one of those M-16's" Brigatti hissed.

"No problem, you OK?"

"I caught one in the leg, ricochet, but it's not deep, just hurts like hell; you?"

"I'm fine" Meredith said. She leaned out, and was trying to pry a rifle from one of the dead guys, when she heard the coughing sound again, then the lights went out.

Brigatti looked up in time from bandaging her leg to see Meredith jerk and go down. Go down and not move. The detective felt sick in her gut, the person she was supposed to be protecting was hurt, maybe dead; and right now there was nothing she could do about it. The only wound she could see was a crease in the other woman's scalp. Brigatti hoped that that was the only one and that Meredith was still alive; well, better make sure they both stayed alive. Shifting her gun to her left hand, she stuck it out the door and emptied the clip down the hall, not even aiming, just fanning the gun back and forth to cover as much of the hallway as possible. She was rewarded with two screams and some more machine gun fire. She slapped another clip into the Smith and listened.

She knew they'd be coming again; her first priority was making sure Meredith survived, and lying in the hallway was not a way to do that. Sticking the gun out the door with her left hand again, she emptied the clip in the hopes that it would keep the creeps heads down for a second or two. Then she dashed out of the bathroom and dove towards the bedroom and where Meredith lay. Brigatti had bought herself some time, but not enough. She had picked up Meredith enough to get a grip and was pulling her into the bedroom, when one of the killers let fly with a shotgun. Brigatti caught some pellets in her right shoulder and arm; a consequence of this being that she dropped her gun. She was still pulling the other woman when the rest of the thugs grew some balls and started shooting. One bullet creased Brigatti's back and she gasped in pain but finally managed to get Meredith out of the open. Brigatti kicked the door shut, and hauled Meredith out of the way, getting her as safe as possible. Toni could feel her consciousness slipping; she was losing a lot of blood. She looked around the room for something to fight back with when she saw the old Colt and the spare clips on the floor. Slowly, because her right hand wasn't working that well, she reloaded the .45 and waited. One of the guys had more guts than brains and kicked open the door and started shooting. Toni dropped him with two to the head; but she could hear more of them in the hall and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. The room became darker, and sounds more distant; she sagged onto the bed as her eyes closed. Distantly she heard a fusillade of shots, 'goodbye Hobson' she thought, and lost the fight to stay conscious.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary was practically terrorizing the ER at Cook County Hospital. He had been brought there from McGinty's, but this was not where he wanted to be. He had been checked out by the Emergency Room doctor and his ribs were bandaged. It hurt when he took a deep breath, but it wasn't anything he couldn't live with, now he was waiting for Dr. Grant to come down and evaluate his concussion. Brent was awake, but a lot more groggy, and occasionally Gary would help the kid out by getting things for him or reading articles out of year old magazines. But most of his time was spent trying to find out what was going on with Brigatti. Every cop that wandered through was subjected to a severe third degree, the ones guarding Ted Walters had offered to shoot Gary if he bugged them one more time and the duty nurse had threatened to sedate him more than five times already. It was killing him, he didn't have the paper, he didn't know what was happening, he couldn't find out if she was dead or alive. 'You've got to have faith' Rachel had told him a long time ago, but sometimes that was easier said than done.

"You're going to wear out the linoleum if you keep this up Mr. Hobson."

Gary spun at the familiar sound of Dr. Grant's voice "I've got to get out of here doc."

"Yes, I'm sure you do. I recall what a model patient you've always been Mr. Hobson, nice to see that some things indeed never change. Well then, up on the bed, you should know the drill by now."

As Gary was situating himself, the nurse came up "does he need a sedative doctor" she asked, shooting Gary a rather hard look.

"Not right now, thank you nurse, but I won't rule it out just yet."

Dr. Grant examined Gary and found him to be relatively alright. "As much as I hate to say this Mr. Hobson, you should be discharged. You suffered a mild concussion, but I don't see that as sufficient reason to hold you here."

As Gary was getting dressed, he went over to where Dr. Grant was examining Brent. "Will he be OK?"

Dr. Grant looked up "I would have thought you'd be gone by now."

"He's an employee and a friend" Gary explained.

Dr. Grant nodded slightly "he should be fine, but I want to keep him here for a day or two, sometimes head trauma can get bad on you very quickly."

"What about his eye?"

"Well, we'll have to have a specialist look at it, but he should retain full function. He may need a corrective lens or something for it, but it should still work."

"Fine, whatever he needs, you just send the bill to me. Oh, and thanks doc."

Dr. Grant looked up, "I'm compelled to ask Mr. Hobson, is there anyone in this city that you don't care about?"

Gary gave him a wry little grin "I haven't met one yet" and left the doctor to his work.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Armstrong couldn't believe what he was seeing. There were bodies and blood everywhere. It looked like a movie or a bad training film, because carnage like this just doesn't occur, at least not outside a war zone. As he looked around, he saw two men, both armed and both saw him at the same time he saw them. One of the uniforms screamed 'FREEZE' but it was too late. The two guys opened up and the police answered. When the shooting stopped, one of the uniforms was hit, but alive and the two guys weren't moving. Armstrong carried the wounded man out and told the other to start collecting weapons and seeing who was alive and who was dead. He got out to his car and called for back-up and ambulances, lots and lots of ambulances.

Marissa heard the horror in his voice, and could smell the coppery tang of blood "are Toni and Meredith OK?"

"Marissa, I need you to help out Officer Phillips here while I go find some answers."

"But"

"No time, he needs first aid and you're all I've got. He's shot in the leg and gut, just put pressure on it and keep him talking, I've got to go back in there."

Marissa just nodded and worked her way around the car and knelt down beside the wounded man. She kept up a conversation with him, but her mind was on her friends, and whether they were still alive. In her mind she prayed.

As Armstrong made it back into the house, the uniform grabbed him and said, "you've got to see this".

Walking down that hallway was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He needed to see what had happened, but he was afraid of the answers.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary was just finishing the paperwork for himself and Brent when the ER seemed to go nuts. A doctor was in the middle of the room yelling. "We've got ten gunshot victims headed this way, I need OR's one through four on standby, and any extra set of hands down here. I don't care if you're a podiatrist, every pair of trained hands is crucial. We'll do triage right here" he said indicating the lobby, "and let's get all these people out of here. The nurses were scrambling to set up the treatment rooms, and Gary and the two cops guarding Ted were put to work carrying things and escorting the other ER patients to another area. While he was working, Gary caught snippets of conversation.

'Was it a gang war?'

'I heard it was a raid on a militia group'

'Someone said they were terrorists'

'I heard some cops were ambushed'

Then the ambulances started to pull up and all speculation ended.


	12. Doctors and Discovery

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 12

Hobson is insidious. His level of subtlety is astounding. I know he's saved my life on several occasions, but it bothers me more than I can say to admit that I have no idea how many times he's done it. I'm aware of the times that he has called me directly or literally been there to save me, but how many times has he told Winslow or Brigatti to do something. Something innocuous that has a phenomenal impact. When I was younger I was fascinated by the history of World War II, specifically the naval war in the Pacific. It amazed me how many battles turned on small details. Like at Midway; how one patrol plane for the Japanese having a broken radio enabled the Americans to attack in secrecy. One glitch in one plane and the entire battle ends up differently. The US wins at Midway and the entire tide of the war changes, all because of one busted radio. How many times has Hobson saved my life, I wouldn't know where to begin to answer that question. And that is what scares me the most about the guy.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gary hated hospitals; one of the things that he hated the most about his calling was his almost constant interaction with hospitals. Not that they weren't necessary or that they didn't do good work, it was just that the people in hospitals asked too many questions, and were never prepared to either listen or take anything on faith. So of course here he was again, praying that neither Brigatti nor Meredith were wheeled in here, praying he wouldn't have to spend days second guessing himself. He was dreading the next day. He knew that Armstrong would never let it go now that he had gotten Gary's promise; maybe he should think about how to present the truth to a detective so cynical that he would rather believe that Gary was some sort of master criminal than a man who just did good things for people. He was so lost in thought that he almost missed Meredith when she came in. Honestly it was easy to do, since most of her head was covered with a bandage. Gary froze, dread filling his insides. He knew that the only way Meredith would have gotten hurt was despite Toni's best efforts; so if Meredith was in a bad way, how bad must Brigatti be. Then he saw her and his heart leapt and died at the same time, 'SHE'S ALIVE' his mind screamed, but God there was so much blood. He tried to go to her, to be with her, but a hand held him back. He tried to shrug it off, but it didn't move, in fact it was soon joined by another. He turned angrily to see that both Paul Armstrong and Marissa were holding on to him. Marissa looked stricken, but Gary was surprised to note that Armstrong didn't look much better.

"Let them work on her Hobson, that's what she needs right now."

Gary slumped, he knew Paul was right, but it didn't feel right, just leaving the woman he loved to the care of others. And that too was a curse of his calling, he was used to doing for others, not the other way around, and being in that position wasn't comfortable.

"Are you alright Gary, I mean physically" Marissa asked.

"Yeah, I'm OK" he mumbled "three busted ribs and a slight concussion, but I'll live."

"How's Brent?"

"Dr. Grant seemed to think he'd be OK, but he wants to keep him here for a day or so, just in case."

Marissa nodded "can you take me to him" she asked taking Gary's arm in hers.

He knew that she was trying to steer him away from Toni and Meredith, and he knew it was the right thing at the time, he just didn't like it.

"I'll keep an eye on her Hobson, don't worry, she's tougher that both of us put together."

Gary looked up, the last thing he had expected was caring or consideration from Armstrong, but something had affected the man, and he looked shaken on a fundamental level. He also realized that Paul needed to be here just as much as Gary did, maybe more so. He was beginning to believe that there were a lot more similarities between himself and Armstrong than either wanted to admit.

Due to the necessity of clearing out the ER, Brent had been moved to a room on the third floor. As calmly as he could, Gary escorted Marissa up there. She chatted, trying to keep the conversation light and away from the two women they both cared about.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meredith Carson came too, and the first thing she noticed was a strange man just inches from her face. The light seemed entirely too bright, and all the other color was washed out, just white, and the man's face.

"Am I dead?"

"I certainly hope not" the man replied, "I would be most surprised to find myself suddenly dead without being aware of it."

She started to giggle a bit at the man's turn of phrase, but the instant her head moved a bolt of pain shot through her. "That's not good" she mumbled.

"Well the next time you decide to stop a bullet, you might want to use something other than your head. But then again you're a reporter, and most would maintain that the head is the reporter's least vulnerable spot."

'Great' Meredith thought to herself 'I die and get Eddie the insult angel'. "Where am I?"

"Cook County Hospital, you were in the ER, but I doubt you remember that, now you're in the Neurological Care Unit. I'm Dr. Grant, and I happened to be handy when you decided to grace us with you're presence. Before you ask, you should be fine, there was a little swelling of the brain, but it seems to be receding, unless something serious goes wrong, you should be out of here in two days."

Just as the soothing words were sinking in, Meredith remembered something; her eyes flying open she gasped "where's Toni"?

"Tony, who's that?"

"A friend, I was staying at her place, is she OK?"

"I'm sorry, I only know about you, what's her last name and I'll check with the police."

"Brigatti, detective Antonia Brigatti."

Dr. Grant just nodded and left. Meredith lay back and prayed that she was not the only survivor, because she didn't know if she could handle someone giving their life for hers.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Paul Armstrong stood and watched while they worked on his partner. He had known Brigatti forfive years now, and she had been his partner for the last three. Having gone over the scene, he couldn't believe the carnage that had taken place, let alone the fact that both the women survived, at least one had, the jury was still out on number two. He wondered what the real story was; why did half the wiseguys in Chicago decide that a detective and a reporter needed to die? He was sure Hobson knew, heck, he was sure that Marissa knew as well, he just hadn't been thinking clearly enough to ask her when she was around. Watching two doctors and three nurses trying to keep your partner alive will do that.

"Excuse me detective."

Paul turned to face a balding doctor with a wry look on his face "can I help you"?

"I hope so; one of my patients was asking about a Detective Brigatti, I was wondering if you knew if she was alright?"

Suddenly unable to speak, Paul just nodded in the direction of the treatment room, his expression eloquently conveying his feelings.

"Oh my, I hope everything turns out fine, I'm sorry to have disturbed you Detective."

He watched the doctor walk away. Idly he wondered who had been concerned, but then realized it was probably the reporter. Part of him wanted to go talk to her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to leave until he knew that Brigatti would be OK.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Brent was going to be OK. The damage to his eye was minor, and he would heal cleanly with little to no effect on his eyesight. Both Gary and Marissa were thankful for this, if the damage had been more extensive he may have had to give up his dream of acting. But with a little time, he would be back to auditions and shows. The two were leaving his room, when they saw Meredith being wheeled down the hall.

She didn't notice them as she was pushed into her room. Gary and Marissa started in, but Gary stopped short. There, sitting on a chair, was Cat and the paper.

"Gary, what is it?"

"Meredith already has a visitor" Gary answered.

Marissa started to ask who it was, but then Cat mewed and all her questions were answered.

He walked in, and casually picked up the paper and shooed Cat away, hoping the orderly wouldn't notice. Then the two of them walked over to Meredith's bed. This time she saw them.

"Gary, Marissa, God it's good to see you both, how's Brigatti?"

"We don't know, but I think Gary's gonna find out in a second or two."

"Yeah, I saw Cat and the paper when they brought me in here, but I didn't say anything", then she looked up at Gary "well?"

Meredith could tell from the way that Gary's body relaxed that Toni would be OK, Marissa heard the slow exhale of his pent up breath and knew the same thing. "She's gonna be fine" Gary said, she should be outta here in a couple of days. He continued flipping through the paper while the two women talked about the days events; a pretty full day considering it wasn't even noon yet.

Gary interrupted their talk, "Marissa, what exactly did you tell Armstrong?"

Marissa ran down her conversation with Armstrong and her observation that he didn't buy it one bit.

"So he's still running the line that I'm a criminal?"

"Yes, I'd say he is."

"Well, time to deal with that now; Brigatti won't be out of surgery for another three hours, I should be back by the time she's waking up." With that he left the two friends to themselves.

He found Armstrong standing outside one of the treatment rooms near the ER. Paul was staring through the window at Brigatti. "You didn't believe Marissa at all, did you?" Gary asked, making the other man jump.

"If you expect me to believe that load of crap, then you're a lot dumber than you look."

"Come on Armstrong, you're a trained interrogator, you tryin' to tell me that she was lying to you."

"No, I know she believes exactly what she told me, but she only knows what you tell her, and I don't think you've been telling her the truth."

Gary just nodded, "sounds like you're wanting some proof".

"That would be nice."

"Then come with me, I'll show you how this works."

"I'm not leaving here till I know Brigatti's gonna be OK."

"She'll be fine Armstrong, they're gonna take her to surgery in a couple of minutes, she'll be out three hours later and she'll be home three days from now."

"Now how the hell do you know that, talking to the doctors or something?"

"Nope, I read it" Gary said, handing Armstrong the paper. "Now let's go, we don't have all day."

Gary started to leave, Armstrong looked around for a second and then trailed after him, reading the front page article about Brigatti on the way. Once they got to his car, he looked up at Gary, "how could this be real" he asked.

"I don't know" Gary answered, "but it is; come on, we're in a bit of a rush."

Paul got into his car, looking over at the man that had just turned his world on its ear, "where to"?

"The Lincoln Park Zoo, some kid is gonna decide to pet the 'kitties' and climb into the lions cage, it's not gonna end well."

"I believe that" was all Armstrong could say.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They kept the kid from getting into the cage; Gary decided that having a guy with a badge along helped. For once the parents didn't get bent out of shape thinking that Gary was attacking their child.

"Anything else" Armstrong asked when they got back to the car. He was starting to believe now; he had actually been looking at the article when it changed.

"A drunk driver on Wabash is gonna try driving on the sidewalk to get around a wreck and hit four people."

"How long?"

"Forty five minutes, we've got time."

"So you've been doing this for six years, no wonder everyone in the city has heard of you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You can walk into any restaurant in the city, and ask if anyone there has heard of a guy named Gary Hobson, and you always get at least one who has, every time."

"And you know this cause you've tried it?"

"Yep, for about six months now, I gotta admit I've tossed a lot of possibilities around for how you end up in the situations you do, but I never would have figured this for the answer" he said, indicating the paper.

"You OK with it?"

"Honestly I'm not sure, it's so far outside what I know to be true that I'm just kind of ignoring how you know what you know and just accepting that you do, for the moment at least. I'm betting I'll have quite a few sleepless nights when the reality sinks in."

"I've been there" Gary acknowledged. "Armstrong, sorry but I've got to ask, do you still think I'm some kind of criminal?"

Paul thought for a moment "let's just say I'm considering the probability that my conclusion was incorrect. Sorry Hobson, but a good cop doesn't discard a theory until he's presented with overwhelming evidence."

Actually Gary was encouraged by this answer, it meant that Armstrong was actually thinking and that was a good thing. They talked about past incidents right up until they found the drunk, weaving up to the accident site.

Armstrong turned on his light and hit the siren and the guy pulled over. Gary watched as Paul checked the driver and called it in. He sat back and relaxed, his day was done; now he wanted to be there for Brigatti. He checked the paper once again, just to make sure that all was well with the world, it was and he relaxed even further. He was still worried about Armstrong's reaction, but there was really nothing he could do about it. Paul got done citing the guy, and had a black and white take him home, when he got back in the car, he asked Gary, "anywhere else?"

"Cook County Hospital"

Paul just nodded; there really wasn't anything else to say.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Brigatti wasn't sure where she was or what was happening. Everything seemed suffused with a warm glow, but she wasn't sure if her eyes were open or not, and at the moment it didn't seem to matter. She heard murmurs in the background, so she knew people were around somewhere, but finding them didn't seem to be much of a priority either. Suddenly there was a different kind of light, a piercing, bright light, and the voices got louder.

"Detective, Detective can you hear me?"

"I guess I'm alive, huh" she managed to croak out. Her mouth felt like it was full of sand on a hot day. "Can I get some water?"

There was a straw at her lips, and she sucked on it gratefully. She turned to thank the nurse and the words died in her throat. Sitting there holding her left hand was Gary Hobson, at the same time the person she most and least wanted to see.

"Good to have you back, Toni." Was all he could manage, she looked so hurt and vulnerable; it was all he could do to restrain himself from scooping her up in his arms. He leaned close "don't you ever scare me like that again, OK. I'm not as tough as you."

She saw the tears in his eyes, but didn't realize the reason they were there,

"I'm sorry Hobson, I tried to protect her, I'm sorry, sorry…." Her sorrys faded into sobs, and she just lay there with tears running down her face.

Gary understood immediately what she thought, "Toni, Meredith is just fine, she has a concussion, but that's it, you didn't fail at all."

After a moment Brigatti's eyes opened, boring into Gary's; "she's OK" Toni husked out "you're not just saying that, she's really OK".

"Yeah Brigatti, she's really OK, as soon as she can walk down here, I'll have her tell you that herself."

Toni turned back to the doctor "how soon till I'm outta here"?

"Well I'd like to keep you here a week, but since you'd probably go nuts by then, I'll let you out in two days, unless something goes wrong."

"Two days isn't so bad" but then memory kicked in "God, where am I gonna live, my place must look like a battle zone?"

Gary chimed in "you can stay with me as long as you want, I've got room."

Brigatti looked at him, and saw that he was serious, more serious than she had seen him before; and the meaning of his invitation sank in and for a change Toni Brigatti had all the answers she needed.


	13. Questions and Answers

ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS – CHAPTER 13

The day they released Brigatti from the hospital, I went home and destroyed all the Hobson files. The only stuff of mine left was a couple of old cases in a very small filing cabinet. I removed nearly everything from my computer and loaded a couple of strategy games that looked fun. Two weeks later, my wife told me she was pregnant. Go figure.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Toni had been living in Gary's loft for the last six months. In that time there had only been two real tangible changes in her life, one was that she was happier now than she ever had been in her life, two was that she was taking allergy shots so she could tolerate being around Cat; but that relationship was still iffy at best. Today was the day for a third change. She was being promoted to Lieutenant of Detectives. Weston, her old lieutenant was retiring and Paul Armstrong, who would have been first in line for this,had accepted a position in the Denver PD. Paul never talked about it, but Toni knew that the main reason he was leaving was Gary's revelation. It was just more than Paul was able to accept. He just couldn't grasp that reality of the situation, so he actively ignored it, to the point where he could barely say Hobson's name without getting twitchy. Brigatti knew that Denver was getting a good cop; she just hoped that there was no one out there getting an early edition of the Denver Post. Her thoughts were interrupted when Gary leaned in the door of his loft "hurry up Toni; you don't want to be late for your own party do ya"?

"I'll be there Hobson, just hold your water."

She thought about this guy as she was sittingin the loft that was now theirs, not just his; she couldn't imagine what her life would be like without him. And to be honest, she wasn't all that keen to find out. She had been adopted into Hobson's circle of friends as though she had always been there. She even found herself able to tolerate Chuck and actually like Chuck's wife. At leas as long as the woman wasn't trying to steal something. She liked his parents, which was something of a novelty for her, and they seemed to like her as well. The only other time that she had met parents had been a disaster. They hadn't gotten past the fact that she carried a gun, and wasn't going to stop doing that anytime soon. But Bernie and Lois didn't seem to mind how she made a living or that she made her job one of the top priorities in her life; they just seemed to care that she loved their son, and trusted everything else to work out. They were even comfortable enough to start acting normally when she was there. Bernie certainly joked enough around her, although she suspected that Bernie Hobson would joke with the chaplain on the way to his own execution; and Lois had appointed herself Toni's mom, since Toni wasn't that close to her real parents. Checking herself one last time in the mirror, she headed down to McGinty's. There was a combination 'Farewell' party for Armstrong and a 'Congratulations' party for her going on. A cheer erupted from the party goers when she came down the stairs, and the party really took off then.

Anyone that meant anything to her was there and as the hours wore on, she could not think of a time when she had been truly happier, surrounded by friends and with the man she loved. She was dancing to one of those romantic 40's songs that Hobson seemed to like and feeling on top of the world.

"Can I ask you a question Toni?"

"Sure Hobson, what's on your mind?"

His left hand let go of hers and disappeared from her sight for a second. When she could see it again it was holding a little box with a ring in it. "Would you marry me, Brigatti?"

She had thought she couldn't be happier, now she knew she was wrong.

THE END, for now

A/N I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of the people that have taken the time to read my story, and especially those who took the time to review it. It is entirely probable that I will add a sequel to this at some time, but right now I'm working on that crossover I talked about earlier. One of the great things about this type of writing is it allows you to find new fascets of old characters, and to find some of yourself in them. As always, I'm amazed at where my stories end up, as opposed to where I thought they'd end up. In conclusion I would like to thank you all for the priveledge of including my story and myself in your lives for a brief time. POE1911


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